How We Get By
by hufflelit
Summary: It had been easy being Logan's friend. It had been surprisingly easy being his enemy. Now? Now she didn't know what she was. (My take on how Veronica and Logan grew back together in season 1.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** The plan for this story is to cover episodes 1x14 (Mars vs. Mars) through 1x18 (Weapons of Class Destruction). The first few chapters will probably stick fairly close to scenes from the show; as a result, a lot of the dialogue will be direct quotes. I'm hoping I've added enough extras that the story won't feel like a regurgitation of the episodes. (Please let me know if I fail!) Later on, the story should focus more on missing moments.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Logan actually had to look up Veronica's new address in the phone book. He'd heard that her family moved to the sticks after Papa Mars got canned, but even his most vindictive fantasies hadn't conjured anything quite as seedy as the Sunset Cliffs Apartments. He at least thought she'd have a doorman.

"How the trashy have fallen," he muttered, mostly to make himself feel better. After all, he was the one asking her for help.

Duncan hadn't even pretended to believe that Mom could still be alive. He'd listened to Logan's explanation – the missing credit cards, Grandpa's heirloom lighter left on the dresser – and hadn't said a goddamned word. Logan didn't know what he'd expected, but his best friend should have said _something_. Instead of just staring at him with that "poor crazy Logan" expression while backing away slowly. The old Duncan would have…

He snorted, flicking Grandpa's lighter open and slapping it shut.

The old Duncan would have gone to get Lilly. And then Lilly would have stomped in and told him to snap out of it, that alive or not, his mother was gone, and that either escape was no bad thing. He would have told her to shut the hell up.

Then Veronica would have jumped in with the quiet voice and doe eyes that he'd always secretly known disguised a backbone of steel. She'd have gotten them all to calm down, and then asked Logan to take them through it again: the evidence, the signs that Mom was still alive. Lilly would score some booze and get them reminiscing about good times with Lynn, and then good times in general, until they were all so shit-faced that no one cared when Logan started crying. By morning, they'd forget all about it, and Logan would know, deep down, that his mother was dead.

But that family was gone now – broken apart by Lilly's murder and Veronica's betrayal; Duncan's anti-depressant daze and Logan's own dickishness. Looking back, he realized that Duncan had never been the one who came through in a crisis. Duncan was good for goofing around, high-stakes poker and talking about chicks, but Lilly and Veronica were the ones he'd relied on when stuff really mattered. Was that irony? In Veronica's case, maybe. In Lilly's, it was just tragic.

After Lilly's murder, Veronica had changed so much and so fast that he had to wonder if he'd ever known her at all. These days, she tromped around school in dyke boots and thrift store clothes, beating up stoolies for the PCHers or some shit. Getting her top stud Weevil to punch a hole in Dick's car radiator. Framing Logan for possession. Basically, she pretty much sucked.

But she did manage to nail that rat Shaun for ripping off their poker game. And she got Luke off the hook with the dealer who probably would've broken both his legs. Mr. Mars might be the one with the business cards, but it was pretty obvious that Veronica did more at Mars Investigations than handle paperwork.

Well, god knew no one else was going to look for Mom – least of all the Grieving Widower, expertly played by Academy Award Winner Aaron Echolls. If anyone was going to find Mom, it was Logan himself. And to do that, he needed Veronica.

He flicked his grandfather's lighter open a couple more times to psych himself up. _Free at last_, the inscription said. He wanted to believe she was. He just had to know for sure.

"Cowboy up, Logan," he muttered, adjusting the rearview to make sure the paparazzi hadn't tailed him. No need to give the tabloids another Echolls-sponsored paycheck. Although he was almost curious to see what they'd spin from catching him here. White trash baby mama or snorting coke off a hooker's ass? So many exciting possibilities out here in the 92107 ZIP.

Before he could punk out completely, he launched himself out of his car and into Veronica's building.

Apartment 110 was on the ground floor. The lights were off, but he knocked anyway.

Blue reflections from the pool danced across the stucco walls, just like they did in his backyard. He shivered and hugged his jacket tight around his chest.

A shape moved behind the glass and then Veronica was there, cropped hair and green hoodie making her nearly unrecognizable as the girl he used to know. Then her eyes softened and her lips fell open in a little pout, and recognition twisted in his gut. He knew that face. Or thought he had. He looked away.

"Logan, what are you doing here?"

Her voice was soft and gentle, just like he'd imagined in his fantasy funeral where the whole gang got drunk and mourned together. Just like she actually gave a shit.

Veronica Mars, ladies and gentlemen. The devil in a ponytail and lip-gloss. He'd been so totally suckered. Suckered when he thought Veronica was as much his friend as Lilly's. Suckered when she'd rushed to tattle on him for kissing Yolanda for five seconds after two years of dogged fidelity. Suckered when he confronted her with the rumors that her dad was leading a witch-hunt against the Kanes, and she'd glared at him and said, "what about it?"

Logan squeezed the lighter until the edges dug into his palm.

"I want you to find my mother."

Veronica's expression froze. Logan huffed a laugh, suddenly realizing how it sounded.

"Relax, I'm not asking you to drag the lake."

He took a deep breath, looking away so he wouldn't have to see it when her expression changed. He wasn't sure if it would be pity or ridicule. Either one would be pretty unbearable right about now.

"My mother didn't really kill herself."

For a moment, she didn't say anything.

"Come inside, okay?" she murmured, waving him in.

Pity. Super.

He shot one last, longing glance toward his car and followed her in.

She left the door open; a reminder that she could kick him out any time. He waited for her to toss one of his own jabs back at him – one of his gems about Mrs. Mars turning tricks at the Camelot, or disappearing to Cabo for spring break. Those jokes didn't seem so funny now. When she didn't say anything, he tried again.

"Veronica, she's not dead."

"What makes you think she's still alive?" Her voice was so gentle. It made him want to scream at her.

"Why does everyone assume that she's not? I mean, there's no body…"

"What about the woman who saw her jump? It's been on every channel."

"Well, if she's on TV, she must be telling the truth," he snapped.

Her frown deepened and Logan fumbled for some evidence to break through the wall of skepticism going up behind her eyes.

"Look, her credit cards were missing! Doesn't that seem like, I don't know – a clue? You don't jump off a bridge with your platinum card."

"Logan, I–"

"I know my mother!" he shouted, jabbing his clenched fist at her.

Veronica flinched, but she didn't blink. Logan realized the lighter was still digging into his palm. He shoved his hand into his pocket and forced his fingers to let go. This was Veronica. He had to give her real clues, not some sentimental crap about a family heirloom.

"Okay…" Veronica's tone was harder, and Logan relaxed a little. If she kept talking in that gentle, pitying voice, he'd either break something or cry. "I heard she left a note."

Right. Mom's post-modern answer to the suicide note: a memo on her Blackberry.

_I can't take this anymore. I've tried and tried, but it's just too hard. I'm sorry._

She should have closed with, _Goodbye, cruel world_, just to really nail the cliché.

The note hadn't been addressed to anyone. She hadn't written one word to Logan. If she'd really killed herself, she would have told him that she loved him. She would have at least said goodbye.

"Yeah, well, she wants people to think she's dead," he explained, wrapping his arms around himself. He was cold. Ever since the funeral, he'd been so goddamned cold. "But if she was going to really do the deed, it'd be chardonnay and sleeping pills. She wouldn't risk being found bug-eyed and bloated in some shrimp net."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Veronica's face. He was right. She knew his mom well enough to see that he was right.

"I'll see what I can find out," she promised.

He waited for the punch line; for her to yell, "gotcha!" and kick him to the curb. When it didn't come, his lips twitched into a hesitant smile.

It hadn't been as painful as he'd thought it would be, asking Veronica for help. Honestly, he'd expected her to refuse flat-out. Maybe laugh in his face. Make him beg on his knees. She hadn't even mentioned money. Part of him hated her for being the bigger person. Most of him was just grateful she was going to help.

He'd already turned to go when he stopped in the doorway. In the dark, you almost couldn't tell this place was a dump. He could nearly pretend he was looking at his own pool; that mom was about to go for her nightly swim while he, Lilly, Duncan and Veronica sat in the pool house, watching a movie.

He should say something. _Thank you? I'm sorry?_ Both options sounded like admitting he was wrong, and he wasn't. Veronica was the one who had turned her back on them.

"You know, I…" He trailed off. Forced himself to start again. "I just need to know she's okay."

Without looking back at Veronica, he stepped into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you guys so much for the lovely feedback so far! I'm sorry that this is another short chapter - they should get longer soon, I promise! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

When Veronica arranged to question the witness to Lynn Echolls' suicide, she hadn't intended to find herself sitting next to Logan in the sheriff's station, half-wondering if she'd leave the place in handcuffs.

He'd already been there when she showed up, fidgeting and glaring at everyone like he hoped they'd pick a fight.

"Gum?" he'd offered, and then gone silent, clenching his fists and jiggling his leg so hard she could feel it through the floor. She recognized his pre-beat down body language from years of seeing Duncan haul him off of guys who hit on Lilly or dissed Logan's sister, or just plain looked at him the wrong way.

"We should do this more often," she joked, a little snarkily. He didn't even look at her.

He'd been in a weird funk ever since he came by her apartment last night. Well, "weird" wasn't really the right word. "Completely understandable funk" might be more accurate. She remembered that sick, anxious feeling from when her own mom had bailed – like the bottom had dropped out of the world and the only way to keep from getting sucked out after it was to make herself as hard and as small as possible. Logan had tried pulling off "normal" today at school, but the hunted look in his eyes had given him away. That, and the fact that he'd actually been civil to her.

She leaned her head back against the fake wood paneling, wishing she'd taken him up on the gum. She could smell the cinnamon on his breath from here, and it made her mouth water. Back in the day, they'd always shared gum, since they were the only ones who preferred cinnamon to spearmint. Lilly used to call Logan "hot lips" whenever he chewed it – mostly because it totally grossed out Duncan.

The door to the interrogation room opened and their witness stepped out. Logan tensed like a hunting dog on the trail of a fox.

"Down, boy," Veronica muttered as the woman sauntered past.

Irene Denton looked just as cartoonish in real life as she had on the six o'clock news, telling Martina Vasquez how she'd seen Mrs. Echolls leap off the Coronado Bridge. Fake boobs, fake lips, fake tan… So Veronica wasn't too surprised a minute later, when Irene's story turned out to be fake too.

Cliff's voice crackled through Veronica's earpiece, playing the sleazy tabloid journalist to perfection.

"Miss Denton! Did she look intoxicated? Drugged up? Bruised?"

Veronica winced. She _really_ should have told Cliff that Lynn's son would be listening.

"If you'd like," Irene smirked, "sure."

Predictably, Logan blew up. Just as predictably, he played the class card. At least the boy was consistent.

"So, what!" he yelled, launching himself at Irene. "You couldn't get on Springer this week, so you make lies up about my mom?!"

"Logan–" Veronica grabbed his arm before he could take a swing.

"You know, I am _sure_ the trailer payments must be high," he shouted as Irene beat a hasty retreat. "And what with the high price of SPAM these days–"

"Okay, enough!" Veronica got in his face – as much as she could with the ten-inch height difference – and he backed down, shaking her off and turning to pace the hallway.

Veronica kept an eye on Logan as she thanked Cliff. Even with the promise of a hefty IOU, Cliff looked like he regretted getting involved. _You and me both, Cliffy._

She took a deep breath and turned to deal with Logan.

Then Deputy Leo walked by – charming, sweet Deputy Leo, with his adorkable pick-up lines and penchant for saving her dad's life. Deputy Leo, who she'd used to break into the evidence room and steal a recording of the anonymous tip that had named Abel Koontz as Lilly's killer. Deputy Leo, who she'd gotten suspended from the force, and who hadn't even told on her.

"I have to take care of something," she told Logan. Her stomach was writhing with something uncomfortably like shame, but she squared her shoulders and followed Leo back into the bullpen.

She apologized as sincerely as she knew how, watching Leo's face change as he forgave her faster than she probably deserved. When she said that she'd used him before falling for him, he broke into a goofy grin.

"You fell for me?"

"It's the tear-away uniform," she said, smiling and – egad – actually blushing. "I've got a thing for male strippers."

Veronica definitely hadn't planned to leave the sheriff's department smiling today. Then she stepped back into the hallway and spotted Logan, and the smile dropped right off her face.

Logan straightened when he saw her, his face a scary mix of rage and excitement.

"That bitch is a liar. She's never even seen my mom."

Veronica held out her hand for his earpiece, putting it away carefully so she didn't have to look at him.

"I think that's a fair assumption."

"We're going to find her," Logan declared. Veronica managed not to cringe.

"We're going to try," she corrected. If he heard her, he didn't let on.

They headed for the exit, walking a few feet apart. Veronica shoved her hands into her pockets so she wouldn't have to figure out what to do with them.

For 9,999th time, she wondered why she'd agreed to help him. Was it out of some soppy loyalty to their long defunct friendship? Or was it because her own mom's vanishing act made it a little too easy for her to relate?

For the 10,000th time, she wasn't sure.

That unnerved her. She needed to pinpoint her motive, if only so she could figure out the rules of engagement for… whatever this was. She'd been at war with Logan for too long to think there wouldn't be rules. You didn't go from letting a guy steal the pineapple off your pizza to having him smash your headlights without learning a hell of a lot about him.

She knew that Logan liked to swim with his shirt on but surf with it off. His favorite food was nachos. His pet peeve was political correctness. He loved any movie starring Clint Eastwood. He hated every movie starring Aaron Echolls. He called his sister Trina "The Cuntessa," but went ballistic if anyone else said a word against her. Smoking made him sick, but he enjoyed the affectation of a cigar clamped between his teeth. He had a pocketknife that could cut through tire rubber. He called her Ronnie when he was about to say something awful. Before she'd planted a bong in his locker, his combination had been 35-24-12. Now it was 16-21-32.

It had been easy being Logan's friend. It had been surprisingly easy being his enemy. Now? Now she didn't know what she was. His acquaintance of convenience? His friend as long as she was useful? His private dick? Was this a truce, or just a temporary ceasefire? If she could prove that Mrs. Echolls was alive, would they go back to being best buds?

Between Lilly's murder, Mom's abandonment and Duncan's wordless dismissal, Veronica's heart had been so broken that losing Logan's friendship hadn't really hurt at the time. It had hurt more since, like when he and Dick Casablancas filled her locker with condoms after Shelly Pomroy's party, or when he told everyone that Mom was an alcoholic – a secret even Lilly hadn't known.

It would be easy to say she hated him. Easy, but untrue. He'd been her friend for too long, and old habits died hard. Besides, could she really hate anyone who loved Lilly as much as she did?

They emerged onto the white steps of the sheriff's station, blinking in the early spring sunlight.

"What are you going to do now?" Logan asked.

_So we're exchanging small talk, are we? _

"Right now?" She forced her brain to switch over to her other case; the one that didn't involve doing favors for her chief-tormentor-slash-frenemy. "Going to visit Mr. Rooks. I have some questions for him about Carrie Bishop's performance."

Logan smirked.

"Let me guess: you think she's lying."

She frowned. Mr. Rooks, one of the only good teachers at Neptune High, seducing a student? Of course she thought Carrie was lying.

"What makes you stay that?"

Logan's smirk widened, turning into an actual, honest-to-goodness smile.

"Maybe because everyone else thinks she's telling the truth?"

Veronica waited for the words to burn, but the fire wasn't there. For once, Logan wasn't being an ass. After a moment, she let herself smile back.

Logan shook his head, looking down at her with something like… affection? Tolerance? Maybe plain old nostalgia?

Before she could decide, his face iced over and he looked away.

"What I meant was, what are you doing about my mom's case?"

Veronica gritted her teeth, her smile vanishing. Right. No small talk, then.

"At this point, I think the credit cards are our best lead." Logan opened his mouth and Veronica cut him off before he could argue. "She wouldn't have bothered taking the cards if she didn't intend to use them."

He seemed to think about it, then shut his mouth and nodded. After a moment, he took a few steps back, edging away from her like he wanted to leave but couldn't remember how.

"Thanks. You know, for…" He jerked his thumb toward the station.

Veronica offered a sympathetic smile. "Let me know if you hear anything."

Logan's jackass smirk returned full force. She braced herself.

"You mean if she calls?" He snorted, fixing his gaze somewhere above her head. "Sure thing, Ronnie. You'll be the first."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story so far! Thank you so much for your awesome support. And now, back to Logan's POV...

* * *

As if school didn't suck enough already.

After Lilly died, everyone had walked on eggshells around him, shooting him puppy-dog looks and telling him how sorry they were. That had been bad enough. But it turned out there was a difference between your girlfriend getting murdered by some psycho and your mom killing herself because your dad couldn't keep it in his pants. Now he was getting sneers instead of sympathy; stage whispers instead of condolences.

He didn't actually need to be at school. Dad had offered to write him an excuse for the rest of the week – part of his sudden bid for Father of the Year. Logan had been planning to take him up on it. Then Dad made an appointment for him to see Mom's shrink – "so he can prescribe something for your anger issues" – and Logan had suddenly remembered why he didn't take Dad up on anything.

When in doubt, throw pills at the problem. They should put that on the Echolls family crest.

So he'd come back to school, half-expecting to find his locker plastered with articles about Mom's supposed suicide and Dad's mistresses. It had taken him a couple days to realize that his locker was only clean because Duncan beat him to it every morning. But not even the great President Kane could stop the gossip.

It was like he'd suddenly turned into Veronica Mars. The irony wasn't lost on him. Neither was the karma.

Then Carrie Bishop announced that she'd been nailing Mr. Rooks, and everyone got swept up in the newest Neptune drama. At least the rabble were a predictable bunch. When people started singing "Don't Stand So Close To Me" at Carrie in the halls, he figured his fifteen minutes were over. Until he went to his locker one afternoon and caught Dick ripping something off of it.

"Give me that," he snapped.

"Dude…"

Logan snatched the paper out of Dick's hand and smoothed it out.

_LYNN ECHOLLS ALIVE!?_

His heart lodged in his throat.

It was the cover of _The National Instigator_ – some tabloid rag – but that headline… And underneath: _Exclusive interview gives proof!_

"People suck, right?" Dick said, bumping Logan's shoulder with his fist.

"Yeah," Logan muttered. He flipped the page over, but there was just an ad for a small claims lawyer on the back. He needed to find the whole issue. "Yeah, man. Thanks."

He stuffed the paper into his bag and headed for the parking lot, leaving his books in his locker.

"You okay, bro?" Dick called after him. Logan waved over his shoulder and broke into a jog.

* * *

He drove straight to the Sac n' Pac. He kept his sunglasses on out of habit, but the kid behind the counter recognized him anyway. It was that black guy Veronica hung out with – Wilbur or Wallace or something.

Logan slapped a copy of _The Instigator_ onto the counter and smiled, daring the kid to comment. Wilbur didn't say a word. Not even, "sorry about your mom." Nice friends Ronnie had these days.

Logan barely made it to his car before tearing into the paper.

_LYNN ECHOLLS IS ALIVE!_ the headline screamed across two pages. Underneath was a photo of Logan and his parents at the Oscars last year. Dad's latest ego stroke had been up for Best Director, but Logan figured the three of them deserved a nomination for the show they'd put on that night. They'd played the Happy Family to perfection. No one would have guessed that Logan had come home drunk and stoned in the back of a patrol car two nights earlier, or that Dad had woken him up the following morning with a belt across the back.

The photographer had caught Logan grinning at Mom. He couldn't remember what he'd been smiling about, but the media had been going nuts for this photo ever since she disappeared.

_When Lynn Echolls' car was found abandoned on a bridge on the afternoon of February 5, investigators concluded that she had leapt to her death following heartbreaking revelations about husband Aaron's infidelity (reported in our January 20 issue). Now shocking new evidence suggests that Lynn is actually alive!_

_In an exclusive interview, eyewitness Saundra Bolin of Sunset Springs told us that she was driving on that same bridge when she saw the actress get out of her sleek red convertible and into a blue van with a "mysterious stranger."_

"_She was laughing," Bolin recalls. "She looked so happy, like she was having fun."_

Instigator_ readers will remember that Lynn and Aaron's marriage has been on the rocks since last Christmas, when…_

Logan skimmed the rest of the article, but it was just the same old crap about Dad's cheating getting him shish kebabed at his own Christmas party. On the opposite page, there was a blank outline of a man's head and shoulders, apparently to show the idiot mob what a "mysterious stranger" looked like. It didn't matter. He'd read enough.

He probably broke a few speed limits on his way to Mars Investigations. The brick building was in a crappy part of town, somewhere between the strip malls and skid row. Veronica's cereal box prize of a car was parked on the curb outside. Logan had never been so glad to see it.

He felt like he was in a noir flick as he climbed the old, wooden stairs past a flickering wall sconce. Veronica's voice floated out of an open door.

"Hi, this is Veronica Mars. I was wondering if I could get in to see the doctor this week?"

Logan poked his head into the office. Veronica had her back to him, and he wondered if he should wait in the hall. It felt weird, being near her without her knowing he was there. But there was nowhere to sit in the hall, and he was technically a client. He took a few steps into the room.

The office was dark and cluttered, with stained walls and a fish tank glowing in one corner. Afternoon light cast red and yellow patterns on the linoleum floor. They could have bought the place wholesale off the set of an old PI movie.

"End of the day would be best," Veronica was saying. "I have… band practice after school."

Logan smirked. _Band practice._ Yeah, right. She'd quit the clarinet after three weeks in junior high because she couldn't take the way the reed felt slimy in her mouth. He and Lilly had cracked raunchy jokes about it to make Veronica blush.

He gritted his teeth, shoving the memory away.

"Five would be great," Veronica said. "Thanks." She hung up.

There was another room to his left. Logan glanced in to make sure Mr. Mars wasn't around before saying, "I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure penicillin will clear that problem right up."

Veronica turned, surprising him with a smile. He thought of how shitty life at school had been for the past few days, and let himself smile back. Veronica might have betrayed them, but he'd made sure the damage went both ways.

"Can't say I was expecting you," Veronica said. Warmly, like she was glad he was here.

He looked away, pretending to check out the red and yellow windows. "Yeah. Yeah, I usually avoid buildings with stained glass."

"So _that's_ why you haven't come to visit."

He wasn't even going to touch that one.

Instead, he stepped forward and dropped _The National Instigator_ on her desk with a flourish.

"There's a woman who saw my mom get out of her car and get in a van with a 'mysterious stranger,'" he announced, air quotes and all.

He didn't realize he was grinning until Veronica stopped. The vomit feeling he'd had since Mom disappeared started up again, and he clung to the little thread of hope he'd found between the lines of the article.

"There's also a jungle tribe that worships Donald Trump's hair." Veronica's voice dripped with patronizing pity. "It's a _tabloid_."

He snorted, wrapping his resentment in a wisecrack. "So the girl with the pig arm can't really bowl?"

Veronica bit her lip. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up."

Of course. Saint Veronica, patron of duped husbands and trust fund suckers. Why couldn't she just shut up and do her job like everyone else? Why make it personal?

"I am not paying you to worry about my hopes," he snapped. "I'm paying you to follow leads."

Veronica looked back at the tabloid, her face softening in surprise.

"I wasn't aware you were paying me."

Wait. What the hell did she think was going on here? He might need her services, but that didn't mean all was forgiven.

"This isn't a favor," Logan reminded her, confused and annoyed. "It's a job, you know? I mean, we're not exchanging friendship bracelets."

Veronica's jaw tightened. "I'll stop braiding."

Logan watched her for a moment as she skimmed the article. If she didn't think she was getting paid, why the hell was she doing this?

"The woman said my mom was laughing and having fun," he said before he could think about it too much. "So do whatever it is you do and track her down."

"Saundra Bolin of Sunset Springs," Veronica read, her voice recovering the hard edge Logan knew and loathed. "_How_ am I gonna find her?"

She picked up the phone. Logan wandered toward a cabinet and leaned against it, watching her. In a few minutes, he might know for sure that Mom was alive. Why did that thought make him nauseous?

Veronica said a few words to the operator, then put her hand over the receiver.

"I'll put it on your bill," she whispered to him, fully a bitch again. Logan managed a sarcastic smile before she turned back to the phone.

"Hi, Saundra!" Logan's pulse picked up. "This is Veronica of _The National Instigator_. I had a few follow-up questions on your Lynn Echolls story?" She paused. "Actually, in person is a lot better. …No, Tuesday night's no good – newspaper work night."

If Logan's heart started beating any harder, he was pretty sure he was going to puke it up.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

Veronica looked up at him, and he couldn't figure out how he'd ever thought her face was soft.

"Any chance you're available right now?"

* * *

He paced around the office while Veronica arranged to meet Saundra Bolin in half an hour. Finally, she hung up.

"I'm–"

"Coming with me?" Veronica interrupted. She arched an eyebrow. "What a surprise."

They drove to the café in separate cars. By the time they got there, Veronica was all business, any talk of friendship bracelets and pro bono work thankfully forgotten. She made him buy her a latte and then stuck him at a table facing the wall.

"I'm playing the intrepid girl reporter, remember?" she said when he tried to argue. "Doesn't really work if you're with me. I'll make sure she sits where you can hear."

He watched her set up on a couch nearby, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. She clicked the pen a few times and made a note. He guessed she might be believable as a journalist – if it was Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.

Well, she was the best he was going to get. He turned back to his coffee, stomach churning.

He wondered if Saundra Bolin had got a good look at Mom's "mysterious stranger." As far as Logan knew, his mother had always been faithful. Still, he was betting there were more than few guys in her life who wouldn't mind taking her away from all this.

What would he say when he found her? Part of him wanted to scream at her until she apologized for scaring the crap out of him. Another part wanted to play it cool – just show up wherever she was staying, like it was no big deal. _Oh hey, Mom. Didn't know you were here._ Just to prove that he could keep her secret; that she didn't have to disappear from _him_. It was his turn to protect her now, and he swore he'd be better at it than she was.

It had always been him and Mom versus Dad and Trina, even before Logan understood that there were sides to take. When he was a kid, he told himself that was why Dad was so hard on him – because he hated that Logan and Mom shared something he couldn't touch. Logan had been a jackass even then, and he'd gone out of his way to rub it in the old man's face. The deep, twisted truth was that sometimes, he hated Mom for being weak even more than he hated Dad for hitting him.

So maybe he'd let his resentment show through sometimes. Maybe he'd brushed off her hugs and snapped at her when he shouldn't have. And now she was gone.

"Saundra?"

He jerked at the sound of Veronica's voice, shooting a quick look toward the door.

Saundra Bolin was tall, around Mom's age, with chin-length red hair. Logan grinned. She looked a hell of a lot more reliable than that Denton bitch.

"You must be Veronica," Saundra said.

"Thanks so much for agreeing to meet. Can I get you a drink?"

Saundra ordered another latte and they chitchatted while waiting for it to show up.

Logan peeked over his shoulder. Saundra had her back to him, and he risked a "hurry up" gesture at Veronica. Of course, she ignored him.

"So," Veronica said, once they'd covered the weather, the traffic and the tourists, "I'm not sure how much you were paid for the last interview…"

"Oh, I wasn't paid! I thought people should know the truth. With that… _woman_… lying on every talk show…"

Logan grinned, pressing his fist against his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. This was it. Saundra Bolin was for real. Hope swelled in his chest like a balloon, getting bigger with every word.

"Is there anything else you remember?" Veronica asked. "Model of the van… maybe a piece of the license plate?"

"Honestly, I was just so excited to see Lynn! I thought they were filming a movie or something."

"Have you ever seen Lynn Echolls before?"

"Once. At the premiere of _Delta Blue Bombers_. She was on the red carpet with Aaron." Logan recognized her gushing tone from the groupies that mobbed those events, screaming his parents' names like they owned them. "I must've seen that movie a hundred times!"

"A hundred times!" Veronica exclaimed.

Saundra's voice was breathless with excitement. "I can check if you want!"

Logan's hope balloon started to deflate. Quickly.

"So the van," Veronica reminded her. "In the interview, you said the van was blue?"

"It was the van from _The Pursuit of Happiness_," Saundra squealed. "The exact van."

It felt like his chest was actually imploding, like his ribs were crushing his heart. He tried to suck in a breath, but his lungs wouldn't blow up all the way.

"You mean the exact _model_?" Veronica tried.

"No. The _actual van_. From the movie!"

Logan turned, not caring anymore if Saundra recognized him. Then he noticed Veronica staring at him, and realized he cared about that a lot more.

He shot her what he hoped was a sarcastic, "don't give a shit" smile and headed for the door. Behind him, Saundra was yammering about how young and in love his parents used to be.

"I don't know why anyone could ever think she'd kill herself! She is the _luckiest woman in the world!_"

He rounded the corner and slumped against the glass block wall, staring through it at Saundra Bolin. The thick glass warped her into a smear of colors, like a photo under water. He wished he'd let her stay like that: a vague, unfocused idea. He should never have tried to get a closer look.

"I would've done the same thing."

He turned to find Veronica behind him.

"Done what?" he muttered.

"If it was my mother? I would've let myself believe that story."

Her voice wasn't gentle or pitying. It was hard. Honest.

A memory snuck up and hit him in the gut: Veronica, alone at her locker last year. Her hair was long and she still dressed like a girl. He'd been with a bunch of guys and it was so damn easy he hadn't been able to resist.

"Hey, Ronnie! I hear your mom's living at the Camelot these days." She'd whirled around, eyes brimming with hope and tears, and he'd been so pissed at her that he'd landed the joke anyway. "Apparently Wednesdays are two-for-one BJs. Think she'll give me an extra discount, since we're such good friends?"

Suddenly, he couldn't stand the sight of her. He couldn't stand that she'd gone through this and survived, when he was barely coping. He couldn't stand being himself: this relentless asshole who got drunk and high, who blew off classes and pissed off Dad and never even noticed that he was killing his own mother until it was too late.

No wonder she left. He'd made it easy.

He crashed out of the café, his shoulders banging off a couple of people standing in the doorway. Someone shouted after him and he didn't bother turning around.

Mom might still be alive. But either way, he was never, ever going to find her.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Whew - covering a lot of ground in this one! I hope it works. I also attempted a season one-style Lilly flashback… hope that works, too! As ever, please let me know what you think. :)

* * *

When Weevil offered to track down the freshman claiming to have proof of Mrs. Echolls' suicide, Veronica was more than a little surprised. She'd never really understood how Weevil had gone from beating the crap out of Logan in September to joining his high-stakes poker game in December. Now that she knew about Lilly and Weevil, she wondered if his main motive was guilt.

For once, she didn't care. Weevil was helping, which meant she could focus on getting Mr. Rooks' name cleared of the mud Carrie had dragged it through, and – oh yeah – figuring out whether Duncan's mystery illness had anything to do with Lilly's murder.

With so much on her plate, she hardly thought about Logan's case for the rest of the week. It retreated to a little, nagging corner of her mind, jumping out whenever she passed him in the halls. She kept expecting him to chase after her and demand to know what she was doing to find his mom. Honestly, she was hoping for that, because this silence meant that he'd given up, and that she'd failed to help him.

Then came the weekend, and two earth-shattering bombshells knocked all thoughts of Lynn Echolls out of her mind.

Abel Koontz had terminal cancer, and he'd known it when he confessed to killing Lilly.

Then, when she was still reeling, Mr. Rooks tried to hit on her.

A little more digging into Carrie's allegations led her to Susan Knight. Carrie's best friend was supposed to be spending the semester in Germany. Instead, she was living in Carlsbad with her grandmother, five months pregnant with Mr. Rooks' baby.

Veronica sat in her car for a long time after leaving Susan's grandma's house, trying to wrap her mind around what Carrie had done for her best friend. Veronica knew firsthand how hellish Neptune High could be when the all-powerful in crowd decided you'd transgressed. Carrie knew it, too – hell, she'd been a part of it. She and Susan had been two of the first people to turn on Veronica. Even before Lilly's murder, they'd spread vicious rumors about her breakup with Duncan, claiming that he was mentally ill, and that she'd sent him naked pictures to win him back.

So why did she feel guilty for the way she'd treated Carrie these past few weeks? Of course she wanted to believe she was better than that, but there was something else.

She… admired Carrie. Before she'd been exiled from the 09er posse, would she ever have willingly left it? If it had been Lilly who'd been seduced, impregnated and disowned, would Veronica have been as selfless as Carrie? She'd do it in a heartbeat now… but back then? She wanted to believe she would. She just wasn't sure.

Maybe it was that insecurity that made her so hasty when Weevil found her at school the next day, dragging the pint-sized freshman Hart behind him. She'd texted Logan to meet her without a second thought.

Well, okay – there had been a second thought. She'd been feeling guilty for leaving his case for so long, and for contracting to Weevil when she was pretty sure Logan didn't want her telling anyone what they were doing. And maybe she'd also been eager for her sleuthing to help at least one person this week.

If she'd thought about it a little longer, she would've watched the tape first. Would have seen the tiny, spread-eagled dot drop from the Coronado Bridge and splash into the ocean as Hart's crappy war film raged in the foreground.

That wouldn't have stopped Logan from seeing it eventually – she knew he would've insisted – but she could have given him some warning. Let him watch it his way, which definitely wouldn't be in the journalism classroom with Weevil, some freshman and – let's be honest – Veronica Mars party to his grief. Instead, she ambushed him.

"This footage better never make it out into public consumption," she told Hart, desperate to relieve her guilt.

"Don't worry about my boy Hart," Weevil said, clamping a hand around the kid's pencil neck. "He knows if that happens, his last movie will be a snuff film. And he'll star in it."

Maybe Weevil felt a little guilty too.

He shoved Hart toward the door, shooting a look at Veronica before following him out.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Logan come to stand next to her. She fixed her gaze on the image of Hart's body toppling toward the ground, behind him that one, distant splash.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She felt sick at what she'd seen, and sicker at what she'd put him through.

"So am I." His voice was rough with tears. If it was possible for Veronica to feel any worse, she did.

She heard Logan stumble on his way out of the classroom. She hadn't even been able to look at him.

Her phone started ringing and she pulled it out of her bag with a sigh. She had to read the text a few times before it sank in.

_Activity on card registered to L. Lester._

It took her another second to find her voice.

"Logan!" she yelled. But he was long gone, or else ignoring her.

She was halfway to the door before she remembered the DVD in the disc drive. She pressed the eject button, nearly bouncing with impatience as the drive whirred. She snatched the disc and sprinted after Logan.

He wasn't moving fast, but his legs were a lot longer than hers. He was nearly at the parking lot by the time she caught up with him.

"Logan? Logan!" He didn't turn around until she was nearly on top of him.

"Logan!" she gasped. "Your mom's missing credit card was just used."

It took a moment for his face to lose the shattered, empty look, but when it did, she couldn't help grinning. Logan seemed to catch her excitement.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that someone bought something with one of your mom's cards."

His brow creased. "So it might not be her?"

The reality of what they'd just seen hit her again and her heart started to sink.

"No," she admitted. "It's possible that someone found the card, or that it's a case of identity theft… I'll talk to my guy at the bank to find out what the charge was. That should tell us something."

"How long will that take?"

"I'll call him now. We should have the details by tomorrow morning."

"Okay." Logan ran his hands through his hair, linking his fingers behind his neck. When he looked at her, the desperation in his eyes almost hurt. "This is good news, right?"

"It's a lead," she hedged.

Logan gave a smile that looked more like a wince.

"Don't get my hopes up, right?"

Veronica offered a thin smile in return.

"Logan, I'm so sorry about back there…"

"Don't be." He shrugged. "You know, if it wasn't for you, I'd just be sitting at home, going crazy wondering."

"And instead, I've got you out of the house going crazy wondering," she joked weakly.

His smile was smaller this time, but it looked less painful.

They agreed to meet at the lunch tables the next morning before school. She watched Logan leave campus – two hours early, but she wasn't about to stop him – and headed back to class, already texting her bank contact.

A fax was waiting for her when she got to the office after school. Luckily, Dad was out in the field. She had a pretty good idea what he'd think of this case, and although she knew, deep down, that he was probably right, she wasn't ready to admit it. Despite all her warnings to Logan, she'd started to get her hopes up a little bit, too.

Mrs. Echolls had fourteen credit cards. The only one with activity was a no-limit platinum card, registered to "Lynn Lester." She didn't need to use the PI database to find out that was Mrs. Echolls' maiden name. Logan was going to love that.

The card had been used to rent a red Mercedes Benz convertible. A lot like the Dodge Viper she'd been driving when she allegedly jumped. Logan would like that too.

She called the rental company, ready with a sob story about a deadbeat dad, but it didn't matter – they didn't have video surveillance. She'd have to do it the old-fashioned way and request a copy of the cardholder's signature. That might take a few weeks, which Logan definitely wouldn't like.

By the time she was done, she still had plenty of time to pick up dinner and do her homework before calling Wallace, who'd been making noises about how they never "just hung out" anymore. He wasn't wrong. Hopefully, with only Logan's case to distract her, things would calm down for a while. In the spirit of youthful frivolity, they made plans to watch TV at Veronica's the next night, when Dad would be out on his insurance fraud case.

Of course, by the time the next night actually rolled around, Veronica was freshly snowed under, hunting down a Russian e-mail order bride's lost soul mate and trying to figure out which varsity jock had the hots for her friend Meg. From the tragic, to the tawdry, to the ridiculous.

As swamped as she was, she still found the time to get seriously impatient for the signature on the Benz rental. Logan had been through enough with this case, and she wanted to solve it for him. She told herself it was just that, and not the way her heart had fluttered when he'd squeezed her arm and looked at her like they were friends. She missed him. After everything they'd done to each other, she was surprised to realize how much.

"Thanks for helping out with this," he'd said, his thumb rubbing a slow circle on her shoulder.

She'd smiled. "I know what it's like."

And she did. No matter what had happened to Mrs. Echolls, they'd both been abandoned by their moms. They'd both loved Lilly, and they'd both lost her. And they'd both turned a little mean in their quest to get even.

Somehow, Duncan wasn't part of that. When he'd seen Logan and Veronica together, he'd joked that Logan had been inviting her to the 80s dance. As if either of them cared about stupid high school dances anymore.

Duncan had figured out how to stop mourning Lilly and go back to his charmed 09er life. She shouldn't blame him for finding peace. It actually sounded kind of nice. But she didn't have that luxury.

For whatever reason, neither did Logan.

* * *

A typically exciting Friday night found her sorting through potentials for the Russian bride's lost love – an actor who'd changed his name from the unfortunate Tom Cruz. She'd put out a pretty specific casting call, but it was amazing how many balding, hockey-playing guitarists of medium height and build were aspiring actors.

Wallace had just dropped by when Veronica got another text from the bank. L. Lester had struck again, this time dropping twelve grand on a room at the Sunset Regent in L.A.

Veronica bit her lip. If it really was Mrs. Echolls using the card, she wasn't exactly flying under the radar. She left Logan a voicemail telling him to call her, and then turned to Wallace with a grin.

"Man, I _hate_ that look," he groaned.

"C'mon, buddy!" She punched his shoulder. "I thought you wanted to hang!"

Wallace narrowed his eyes.

"Will it result in my public humiliation?"

She gave him her most winsome smile. "Only if you want it to."

They drove to the mall, where Veronica managed to pick up a wedding scrapbook and a stack of bridal mags just before closing.

"I do _not_ like where this is going," Wallace griped. She smiled and bought him a soft pretzel to keep him happy.

When Logan called, she told him to meet her at the Sunset Regent at noon the next day. She opted not to fill him in on her plan. After all, she could only afford so many soft pretzels.

Veronica and Wallace got back to the apartment in time to catch Dad on his way to bed.

"Hey, Dad! Can I borrow the Rock?"

The Rock was a huge, pretty convincing fake diamond ring that Dad had got for a job last year. Veronica had been waiting for an excuse to use it ever since.

Dad frowned, his toothbrush dangling from the right side of his mouth.

"What for?"

Veronica clutched the scrapbook to her chest, feigning raptures.

"Wallace and I are running away together," she gushed. "The ring's just in case he wants to make an honest woman of me."

Dad raised his eyebrows at Wallace. Veronica didn't have to turn around to know he was rolling his eyes.

"Well, I still want you home by curfew," Dad said, going to get the ring from his sock drawer. "And if you run away together, remember to drive safe."

To his endless credit, Wallace stuck around for a whole hour of wedding scrapbooking.

"Is this really what girls do?" he asked, frowning as he tried to paste a picture of roses onto a page and got his fingers stuck together instead.

"I dunno." She blew her bangs out of her eyes, cutting carefully around a wedding dress. "Why, does it scare you?"

He grinned and gave a theatrical shudder. "I'm ter-r-r-rified!"

Veronica kept working after he headed home. As silly as it was, there was something soothing about cutting pictures out of one book and pasting them into another. She'd made a real scrapbook for Lilly's seventeenth birthday, full of photos and ticket stubs and notes. She could still picture the first page: a photo of Lilly and Veronica at prom, surrounded by pressed flowers from their corsages. Lilly's dress had been black, skintight and plunging. They'd skipped pep squad to go get it after school one day. It had been two years, but Veronica could still remember leaning against the scorching hood of Lilly's silver Mercedes, waiting for her best friend and wondering why that Weevil kid was watching her across the lot. At least she'd managed to solve one mystery.

The bell had rung and then Lilly and Logan had appeared, joined at the lips since their recent reconciliation.

"_So, do I get to see this dress before prom?" Logan asked as they arrived at Lilly's car._

"_It's bad luck," Lilly teased._

"_Pretty sure that's just for weddings."_

"_Well, this is as close to the altar and I'm ever gonna get," Lilly said, letting him pin her against the car. Veronica rolled her eyes with a tolerant smile. "I'm a modern woman, you know."_

_Logan's retort was drowned out by the ear-splitting roar of the PCH bikers peeling past on their motorcycles. _

"_Overcompensating for something?" Logan quipped as their taillights disappeared down the road._

"_Says the guy in the big yellow gas-guzzler," teased Veronica. Logan blew her a kiss. _

"_Alright, boy toy, playtime's over." Lilly kissed Logan once more before pushing him away and unlocking her car. "Let the girls go do grownup things."_

_Logan opened her door and helped her in. "See ya, Barbie." He winked at Veronica in the passenger seat. "Skipper."_

"_How dare you?" Veronica demanded, mock-offended. He grinned and gave them a little salute before closing Lilly's door._

"_So, how are things with Logan?" Veronica asked as they pulled out of the lot._

"_Well, you know what they say," Lilly said airily, "fifth time's the charm."_

_Veronica gave her best friend a sympathetic look. Lilly liked to act like nothing fazed her, but Veronica couldn't imagine being okay if she and Duncan broke up… well, ever. Let alone every few months. _

"_Do you think you guys will stay together this time?" _

_Lilly shot her a scornful look and Veronica backtracked, digging deep for that inner bitch Lilly liked so much. _

"_I'm just asking because I don't want your drama ruining my prom photos."_

_Lilly gave a loud laugh. "Fear not, Veronica Mars. Your misty, water-colored high school memories are safe. Anyway, there's no better date for a school dance than Logan." Before Veronica could accuse her of sentimentality, she added, "He buys the best corsages. And the best booze."_

_Veronica scoffed. "God, Lil – if your family wasn't already loaded, I'd say you were using Logan for his money."_

"_So cynical!" Lilly cried. "Can't I just be using him for his body?"_

Veronica's eyes had drifted closed with the memory. Now she opened them as she heard Dad moving around in the other room. It was nearly 4 AM, and he was heading back into the field.

Dad poked his head around her door and frowned at the carpet of tattered wedding magazines.

"Sweetie?" he prompted. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Veronica gave an innocent shrug. "I love scrapbooking?"

"With bridal magazines?"

"You're the one who wanted me to have normal hobbies," she reminded him. "This is what teenage girls do, Dad! I saw it on TV."

He looked skeptical. "You'll warn me before you get married, right?"

"You kidding? Who else is going to hold the shotgun?"

"That's my girl."

"Be safe!" she called after him, smiling to herself as the front door clicked shut.

* * *

She fell into bed at 4:30, waking up at 9 to call the front desk at the Sunset Regent. The man who answered had one of those snobby, faux-British accents, like Kelsey Grammer on _Fraser_. Veronica put on her very best Rich Bitch Socialite.

"My fiancé and I were hoping to see your honeymoon suites – is there a good time for us to pop our heads in? Maybe after the maids have been through?"

"I'm afraid the Sunset Regent does not offer _tours_, ma'am."

Veronica gritted her teeth around a smile.

"Of course. But if there was a specific suite we were interested in, I'm sure we could look in? They were glad to accommodate us at the Ritz-Carlton."

"_If_ the suite is unoccupied," the man said, "one of our staff should be able to showcase it for you."

"Fabulous. We'll be there at noon. Ta!" She hung up before he could try to argue.

She checked the clock and swore, then started rifling through her closet for her stuffiest clothes. If she hurried, she'd be just in time to fake an engagement to her dead best friend's ex.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! This was a tough chapter to write. As always, feedback is vastly appreciated. Thank you so much to those who have reviewed so far! **

* * *

Logan was wolfing down some Lucky Charms in the kitchen when Consuela walked in, carrying a tray of Dad's untouched breakfast. He frowned as she started throwing it away. Wasn't Dad taking this whole Grieving Widower thing a little far? He hadn't worked this hard for a role since _Breaking Point_. Outside of the movies, Logan was pretty sure people couldn't actually die of a broken heart. At least not people who cheated on their wives.

It would be nice to believe that Dad loved Mom. Dad had sure convinced himself that he did. He was one step away from growing out his fingernails and becoming a full-fledged hermit. But Dad had always been good at convincing himself of things. Like that magical day they'd all spent at the zoo for Logan's tenth birthday. To hear Dad tell it, Logan had thrown a tantrum and smacked his own face against the window. Like, for fun, or something.

Logan could still remember the fury in his father's eyes when he'd spilled that milkshake in the car. He could feel the way the coldness had spread from the ice cream on his lap to his whole body; how he'd been frozen with fear until the back of Dad's hand connected with his nose and hot blood had spattered down his chin.

So if Dad wanted to convince himself that he was dying of grief, fine. But if he really loved Mom, he'd be trying to find her, like Logan was.

Logan slurped the last of the milk from his cereal bowl and checked his watch. Veronica had told him to meet her at the Sunset Regent at noon. "I've got a plan," she'd said, and hadn't offered to elaborate. After seeing her in action these past few weeks, he didn't push for more details. If Veronica said she had a plan, she did.

It had felt weird at first, trusting her with something so personal. Now it was kind of weird how _un_-weird it felt. Things weren't like they used to be – not even close. But it was nice knowing that she was fighting his corner. Even if he was paying her to do it.

He went to his room and fired up the PlayStation, hoping to kill some time before driving to L.A. He started a game of _Halo_, but he couldn't focus. Soon, he might see Mom. The thought made him giddy and terrified. What if she wasn't there? Or worse: what if she was there, and she didn't want him to find her?

He let himself die twice before giving up and getting in the car. He'd get to L.A. early, but he'd rather be there than here, listening to the maids creep past Dad's room like he was on his deathbed.

He was on the PCH when his phone rang. His heart skipped a beat, then steadied as he checked the caller ID.

"DK," he greeted, trying not to sound disappointed. Since when would he rather talk to Veronica than his best friend?

"Hey, man! We're still going to Kaz's party tonight, right?"

Logan had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't matter. They went to every 09er party. It was basically a rule.

"Of course."

"Cool." Duncan paused. "I, uh… I hear Veronica might be there."

After a year and a half, Logan's response was more knee-jerk than genuine.

He scoffed. "And we're caring why?"

"No reason," Duncan evaded. Oh god, were Duncan and Veronica getting back together? That would just be _adorable_. Logan might puke from the cuteness. "I saw you two hanging out yesterday."

"_So?_" Logan snapped.

Duncan did the smart thing and dropped it.

"So nothing, I guess." He sounded confused, but it didn't last long. Nothing did with Duncan – not anymore. His antidepressants gave him the attention span of a five-year-old on speed. "Look, just be nice, okay? I need my wingman."

Logan managed not to groan out loud. Great. Just what he needed: to spend the night as Duncan and Veronica's third wheel. Their puppy love had been irritating enough back when Lilly was around to make fun of it with him.

"Alright, fine," he said. "But you owe me your firstborn."

"You da man, Rumpelstiltskin."

They hung up and Logan tried to force his attention back to the road and where it was taking him. To find his mom, he reminded himself. That's all he should be caring about. But the thought of Veronica and Duncan getting back together bugged him for some reason. It wasn't like he hated her anymore, if he ever had. He didn't totally trust her, but… he respected her. Maybe even more than when they'd been friends. Veronica got him in a way none of the other 09ers did. If she got back with Duncan, would she just disappear back into the vapid herd?

He got to the Sunset Regent a little before noon. They'd agreed to meet in the parking lot, so he stayed in his car, fiddling with the radio. Songs blended together as he swiveled the dial, melding with jingles for kitty litter and bickering DJs. Logan let it fill his head like white noise. This particular habit used to drive Mom nuts, back when she still drove him places.

"You're giving me anxiety," she's say, swatting his hand away from the radio. "Anxiety" – like it was some pain he inflicted on her. That was probably true. Although screwing with the car radio was possibly the least anxiety-inducing thing he did these days.

When he couldn't sit still any longer, Logan got out of his car and paced around the parking lot. He checked his watch, and then checked it against the clock in his phone. He paced some more. His mom might be in that hotel. The thought made his stomach churn. _Now who's giving who anxiety, Mom?_

When both his phone and his watch agreed that Veronica was late, he wandered into the lobby.

He'd stayed here before, he realized. A few years back, they'd been in L.A. for one of Dad's premieres. Dad had stayed out all night at some after-party, probably screwing his way through the catering staff. Logan and Mom had come back to the hotel. Mom had been buzzed and jittery, and she'd let him stay up late, playing Texas Hold 'Em together until 3 AM. Logan didn't think Dad had set foot in the suite once the entire weekend. Of course she'd pick this place.

It didn't happen often these days, him and Mom just spending time together. He was usually out with his friends, and she was either off at some fundraiser or at home and high. Since she'd disappeared, whenever he tried to picture her face, he saw that faraway look that meant she'd just downed her favorite vodka-Valium cocktail. He needed to see her, if only to remember what it looked like when she smiled at him.

He checked his watch and heaved a sigh. Where the hell was Veronica?

"I know; I'm late!"

Hm. Apparently _thinking_ of the devil worked just as well.

He turned and saw Veronica jogging across the lobby, looking like she'd just come from a PTA meeting.

"Sorry, honey!" she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then she grabbed his face and kissed him on the cheek.

Logan was too stunned to push her away. Was this what it looked like when someone had a psychotic break?

"So I talked to this guy on the phone," she whispered, suddenly Veronica again. "Let me handle it; he's a bit prickly." She grabbed his arm and hauled him to the front desk.

"May I help you?" asked the concierge.

"You may! My fiancé and I are looking for a honeymoon suite."

Logan stared at her, struggling to keep a straight face. Did she actually think anyone was going to fall for this? All the turtleneck sweaters in the world couldn't make her look like anything but jailbait. As for him – he was wearing army pants, for Christ's sake. She could have at least told him to put on a dress shirt.

"Oh, how wonderful," drawled the concierge. He handed them a piece of paper with pictures of rooms. "These are our more affordable packages. The rooms run $350 for a courtyard, and $450 for poolside. For weekends, of course, it's a two-night minimum."

"Of course." Veronica reached into her bag and dragged out the biggest, ugliest wedding scrapbook Logan had ever seen. She dropped it on the counter, letting the massive rock on her left had catch the light. "Here's a little bit more what I had in mind."

She started flipping through page after page of flowers and dresses and table settings, cut from magazines and pasted into the scrapbook. When the hell had she done all this? They'd only found out about the Regent last night. It might be the craziest plan in the world, but she'd clearly worked her ass off for it. And Jeeves wasn't biting.

Logan took a breath and threw himself into the act. What the hell, right?

"Wow, sugarpuss!" he exclaimed. "You've certainly been a busy little bee."

Veronica gave him a guilty little "who, me?" smile and they giggled at each other, just so adorably in love. Logan turned back to the concierge with a grin.

"Ah, she's a keeper," he chuckled.

Jeeves still looked a little bemused, but he handed Veronica a binder.

"These are our luxury suites," he offered.

Veronica opened the binder, but there weren't any prices listed with the rooms. How were they supposed to know which one Mom's card had paid for?

"Nope," Veronica scoffed, flipping past the first page. Logan glanced at her, wondering how she could tell. "Hah! _No_. Hmm… _yuck_!"

She was nearly through the binder when she paused.

"Well, how much is this one?" she asked, all innocent curiosity.

"Ah yes, our Princess Suite. Twelve hundred a night."

Logan's heart skipped a beat. _Bingo._

"It has a hot tub, 360-degree view, and private elevator access."

Logan's heart sped up with every word. That had to be the same suite he and Mom had stayed in years ago. It was _her._

"Ooh, yummy!" Veronica exclaimed, grinning up at him. He managed a smile just in time. "Let's take a look, hon!"

"I apologize," said the concierge, "the suite's currently occupied."

"Like, _literally_ occupied?" asked Veronica. "Because we could just poke our heads in."

"I'm sorry, but our guest has insisted on her privacy."

_Of course she has. _

Logan felt like his whole body was electrified, like every cell knew Mom was here and was straining to get to her.

"Could we maybe just call up to the room?" He could hear his voice shaking and he didn't care.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I assure you we will afford you the same privacy – should you choose to stay with us!"

He wanted to argue some more, but Veronica was closing her scrapbook and pulling him away.

"Alright, stay put," she muttered. "I'm gonna go talk to the maintenance guys."

But that wasn't how Logan wanted to find her. He didn't want to break into her room, or whatever Veronica's Plan B was. He didn't want some maintenance guy there to witness his reunion with Mom. After what she'd gone through to disappear, she wouldn't want a big production. When he finally saw her, it should just be the two of.

"I think I can handle it from here," he said. He started moving cushions on one of the lobby couches, trying to decide which position would give him the best shot at the elevator.

Veronica just stood there, blocking his view.

"No, I can get them to unlock the service elevator," she explained, "and then we can just–"

"Nope, I've got a better idea." Logan settled into the couch, staring past her. "I'll just sit right here until my mother walks out of that elevator."

She didn't move. After a moment, Logan forced himself to look away from the elevators and up at her.

She was frowning, a little crease forming between her eyebrows. Even with the short hair and yard sale clothes, he recognized that look. It was Veronica's Concerned Face, the one she used to wear when Lilly dragged her into one of their crazier schemes, or when Logan and Duncan drank too much at a party. For once, memories of their friendship didn't piss him off.

"I just want to see her on my own, okay?" he said quietly.

Veronica nodded. She got it. Of course she did.

"Okay," she agreed. She smiled a little. "I hope it's her."

Logan looked back at the elevators.

"It is."

She didn't argue. After a few moments of him ignoring her, she left.

Not for the first time, he wondered if Veronica had ever found out what happened to her own mom. She'd been so good at tracking his that he figured she must've, but he'd never asked. He'd talked so much shit about Mrs. Mars in the past year that he figured the whole subject was off-limits for them, along with everything else pre-Lilly.

He'd never spent much time with Veronica's parents. The four of them usually hung out at the Kanes' place, or his place, or the beach. He hadn't given Mrs. Mars a second thought until the day Duncan had asked him to pick up Veronica from her house, and he'd walked in to find her yelling at her mother over a broken bottle of vodka, bake sale cookies burning in the oven.

Mrs. Mars had pulled on the addict mask he knew so well, joking with Logan like they were best pals and not realizing she was slurring. "I won't tell anyone," he'd promised before Veronica could even ask. He'd broken his promise a few months later, but by that point, who was counting?

Mom could get sloppy like that sometimes. Like last year, when Mr. Mars gave Logan a lift home after the homecoming limo party. Mom had answered the door stoned and in her bathrobe, like they didn't have staff for that.

"Logan, your dad's tux!" she'd cried, ignoring the sheriff on her doorstep and the patrol car in her driveway. "Go upstairs and change – we'll get it dry-cleaned before he sees."

Logan had glanced at the sheriff to see if he'd noticed anything – the slurring, or the fear. If Mr. Mars suspected something, he didn't let on.

Even when she was high, Mom had always tried to protect him from Dad. And even when she was sober, she was crap at it.

He'd been nine the first time Dad really hit him – belted him so hard across the face that Logan's head bounced off the coffee table on his way to the floor. They'd rushed him to the emergency room, Mom cradling Logan in the backseat with a towel pressed against his temple. She'd screamed the whole way, threatening to divorce Dad, to go to the papers and ruin him. But when the doctors asked what happened, she didn't argue with Dad's story about a skateboarding accident. Logan got six stitches. Mom never mentioned it again.

It had been like that ever since. Mom would fight Dad tooth and nail in private – scream at him and call him a monster, throw things, hold a cheese knife to his throat to get him off of Logan – but she'd never tried to leave them. Not unless you counted her little chemical vacations.

He'd learned early on to hate the little orange bottles that took her away from him, leaving him to fend for himself in their cold, empty house. When he was a kid, he'd tried hiding them, but she always seemed to have more. It wasn't until he started drinking that he finally understood why she took the pills.

Shame, greed, fear – whatever the reason, neither of them knew how to leave Aaron. But you could always escape into a bottle. The only difference between him and his mom was their choice of bottle. He'd long since given up hope that either of them had the strength to actually walk out. Now that she had, he couldn't blame her for going. He blamed her for not bringing him along.

* * *

Hours ground by. The elevator opened so many times that Logan's heart stopped racing at every _ding_. He slumped deeper into the couch, trying to get comfortable. His stomach started rumbling and then hurting. His eyes got dry and his eyelids grew heavy. His world shrank until there was nothing left but him, the couch, and that wall of elevators.

Mom was _here_. If he just waited long enough, she had to come down. He'd hug her and tell her how sorry he was for not being better, and she'd hold him and tell him how sorry she was for leaving. He just had to wait.

He was still waiting when his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket with stiff fingers, fumbling to flip it open.

"Hello?"

"Hey, where are you?" Duncan asked.

Logan's eyes were already back on the elevators. "The Sunset Regent."

"You're partying in L.A. tonight?" Duncan demanded.

"If by 'partying,' you mean 'staking out the lobby,' then sure."

"Wait, why are you–"

"Forget it. Do you need something?"

"Kaz's party, remember? Wingman?"

Logan closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. _Shit_.

"Crap, dude, I'm sorry. I totally spaced. Can Luke or Enbom do it?"

"Sure, I guess," Duncan said, sounding annoyed. "But–"

"Gotta go, D. Have fun." He hung up before Duncan could finish.

Logan cracked his back a few times, and settled back in to wait. He counted seconds and then minutes, making deals with himself. _If I wait one thousand more seconds… If I wait thirty more minutes… If I just wait, she'll come._

He was still waiting when Veronica showed up, perching on the coffee table in front of him without a word. She'd changed out of her bridezilla blazer, and it felt like days since they'd played teen private eye together.

Logan ignored her, wishing she'd go away again. Wishing she wouldn't say what he knew she was going to say. _Give up. She's not here. Go home._

Sure enough –

"You know you can't sit here forever."

He didn't answer. He felt like he might puke if he opened his mouth.

"Whaddya say we smoke her out?" She pulled out her cell. Despite himself, Logan found himself watching her face and hoping. He'd expected her to tell him that it was time to stop pretending and face reality. That the credit card was another dead end, and that Mom was really gone. Instead, he found himself listening as she cancelled Mom's card. Their eyes locked and she gave him a little smile. Logan looked away.

Veronica hung up and turned to him.

"Have you moved since I left?"

He considered ignoring her, but then shook his head.

She sighed. "Go for a walk. Get something to eat. I'll watch the elevators."

He didn't want to. He might have argued if he felt like he could talk without heaving. Veronica tugged the pillow he was holding out of his arms.

"Go," she said, standing up. "You look like crap."

Logan snorted, but he went. His legs felt numb after a day of sitting, and he limped a few steps, wincing as the weight shifted in his suddenly full bladder. He looked over his shoulder and saw Veronica settling into his seat on the couch, facing the elevators, just like she'd promised.

He hit up the vending machines, spending all his dollar bills on snacks. As an afterthought, he dug some loose change out of his pockets and got a soda for Veronica. Whatever; it was just a soda. And it was worth it to see the look on her face when he handed her the can of Skist. Like Voldemort had started handing out candy.

They sat in silence as Logan worked his way through a bag of Doritos, a Gatorade and two Snickers bars and Veronica sipped her soda.

"How was Kaz's party?" Logan asked.

"Lame."

Logan's lips twitched. Of course she thought it was. But for once, he was pretty sure he agreed. Maybe it took your mom abandoning you to realize that high school parties were the dumbest things in the world.

She actually looked… nice. Okay – _beautiful_. She always did, even when she tried to cover it up with baggy, second-hand clothes. Even when he was so mad at her he couldn't see straight. The black dress and cardigan she was wearing now were probably too fancy for a kegger, but he doubted that Duncan had minded. Speaking of which, shouldn't she be getting wooed by his best friend right about now?

"Did you see Duncan?" he asked.

Veronica frowned. "Yeah. He's worried about you."

Oh. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to him that she was here because Duncan sent her. In some weird way, he thought maybe she'd noticed he wasn't at the party and came on her own. He was annoyed to realize he was disappointed.

"What about you?" he asked.

Veronica cocked her head.

"I think you'll be okay."

They settled back into silence. It felt better having Veronica here. Like if she thought this was worth it, then he wasn't just kidding himself. He pulled out his phone and fidgeted with it while Veronica watched the elevators, her chin in her hand.

Over the past few days, he'd started wondering what would happen between them once they found Mom. It felt okay, not fighting with Veronica. She hadn't given him a hard time about asking her for help. She hadn't even used their arrangement to try to get back in with the 09ers. Not that he'd expected her to; she was too proud to come crawling back to anyone who'd rejected her the way they had.

He knew some people used to think of Veronica as Lilly's sidekick; a glorified yes-man Lilly kept around to tell her how awesome she was. He'd never made that mistake. True, Lilly had bossed Veronica around – hell, she'd bossed them all around. But Veronica was the only person he'd ever seen say "no" to Lilly, outside of her own family. A few times, he'd even caught Lilly mimicking Veronica's reactions, stopping mid-laugh because she saw that Veronica disapproved. Lilly had loved shocking people, and her moral compass rarely pointed due north. Veronica was like her Jiminy Cricket: the angel on her shoulder that told her right from wrong. Too bad Veronica hadn't had her own Jiminy Cricket when her dad accused Jake Kane of murdering his own daughter.

Veronica grabbed his arm, jarring him out of his thoughts. He glanced at her and she pointed toward the elevator. And just like that, there she was.

_Mom._

She was wearing her black trench coat and her "I'm a celebrity; please don't notice me" hat.

She walked toward the front desk and Logan stood up, his heart in his throat.

All of his half-baked ideas of playing it cool disappeared. All he wanted was to feel his mom's arms around him.

"Mom?" he called. He stumbled forward, dizzy with relief.

Then she turned and he came crashing back down. It wasn't Mom.

It was _Trina_.

"Oh, hey Logan." Her face twisted into an incredulous smirk. "Did you just call me '_Mom'_? You okay, brother? You know Mom's… _gone_, right?" She laughed.

He could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, pushing against his skull. The pressure made his eyes water.

"You're supposed to be in Australia." His voice came out strangled around the lump in his throat.

"Yeah, well, that didn't work out." She looked past him. "Veronica, hey!"

Logan barely heard Veronica's nervous response over the rushing in his ears.

"So, is the whole Brat Pack here?" Trina asked with that familiar mix of condescension and obliviousness. "Is this, like, _prom night_? You guys get a room here for some after-party?"

Logan felt a scream build up in his throat and ground his teeth to keep it inside. Like she'd just forgotten Lilly was dead? Like she thought things would ever go back to normal? Like he'd even be _going_ to prom a few weeks after Mom… after Mom had…

"Oh, hey," Trina said, suddenly serious, "I've been kind of out of the loop lately. Are you two–?"

"Stop!" Logan snapped before she could drive him more insane. "You _shut up_. You're wearing Mom's clothes? You're wearing Mom's _hat_?"

"She was your mom, my stepmom." She rolled her eyes. "The lady who liked to parade through the house in a string bikini whenever I had a boy over."

A bitter laugh caught in Logan's throat, burning like bile.

"Yeah, well, to be fair, when didn't you have a boy over?"

"Oh, you!" She reached out to touch him and he slapped her hand away.

"Dad could've used you there!"

Trina scoffed. "So now you're worried about Dad's welfare? Isn't he the big, bad wolf?"

Logan's body flashed hot and then cold. He could practically feel Veronica's eyes boring into his back. _Don't_, he mouthed at his sister. But when had Trina ever listened?

"Cigarette burns and broken noses?" she taunted. "Oh, the stories you used to tell."

Well, it was already the worst night of his life. Why shouldn't Veronica Mars find out his darkest secret?

"Wow, we should get together and do this more often," he said, forcing a laugh.

"Well, you're in luck. I'm heading home now. Some accountant finally cancelled Mom's cards."

He could feel this descending into one of their nuclear fights, the kind that ended with her pouring beer into his PlayStation and him chucking her clothes in the pool. Then she'd run to Daddy and he'd run to Mommy, and Trina always, _always_ won.

"But if you're coming home, who will play Dead Hooker Two on CSI this week?" he sneered. "How will you get your attention fix?"

Her comeback was already locked and loaded.

"Maybe I can be the ring girl at one of your bum fights."

Before he could respond, Veronica jumped between them, her hand on his arm. For a second, he thought she was shaking. Then he realized it was him.

"Should we get going, Logan?" she pleaded.

Trina's face split into a smile. This was all a game to her. Everything was. And Logan was the only one who ever lost.

"Veronica, look at you," she cooed. "All grown up. Hey, we should hang out while I'm in town!"

"Okay! Yeah." Veronica turned back to him, her eyes wide and anxious. "Logan, come on. Let's go."

She started pulling him away.

"See you guys," Trina chirped at their backs. "Drive safe!"

He turned, wanting to spit something back at her. He didn't know what. He watched his sister walked out of the lobby without a backwards glance.

Veronica tugged on his sleeve and he managed a few more steps. Then the truth hit him right in the gut and he folded over, gasping.

Mom was gone. She'd been gone all this time. She'd been gone when he read her suicide note. She'd been gone when he found the lighter. She'd been gone while he played video games at her funeral. She'd been gone when he swallowed his pride and took his desperation to _Veronica Mars_, for Christ's sake. She'd been gone while Dad grieved and Logan called him a phony. She'd been gone, and she hadn't even said goodbye.

The sobs tore out of his chest, leaving him choking. It felt like he'd been swallowed by a wave, dragged underwater and tossed around until he didn't think he'd ever find the surface.

Veronica put her arms around him and he clung to her just so he could cling to _something_ as the rest of the world came unglued.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** First of all, thank you so much to all the wonderful, beautiful, articulate marshmallows who have reviewed this story so far. I appreciate your feedback and support more than I can say, and I _love_ hearing your thoughts on the story and the characters.

I've finally reached the end of the story I had drafted before posting the first chapter, so updates might not be quite as regular going forward. I will really try to finish this story in reasonably good time. I'm sorry for any unforeseen delays! I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Veronica dragged Logan away from his sister, feeling queasy.

_Mrs. Echolls is dead. And Mr. Echolls… _

Logan stopped walking. Veronica started to give his arm another tug, then froze as his face crumpled and he started to cry.

A hot blush burned her cheeks and she looked away. She didn't want to see him like this. She was pretty sure he didn't want her to, either. Veronica cleared her throat, hoping he'd remember she was there and pull himself together. Then she heard a sob wrench its way out of his throat and Logan bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he cried.

Feeling unspeakably awkward, Veronica put a careful hand on his back. Her touch was light, and she expected him to shake her off. Instead, he leaned against her, his body warm and heavy and shaking. She started rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. His hand found her arm, gripping her painfully hard, and Veronica finally pulled him into a hug.

Twelve hours he'd waited for his mom to appear, and then Trina had shown up and made fun of him instead. That was one hell of a sucker punch.

"She's gone," Logan whimpered through his tears. He sounded like a scared little boy. "She's gone, she's gone…"

Logan's knees seemed to give out and he sank to the floor, forcing Veronica into an awkward half-crouch. She held him tighter, stroking his hair and making shushing noises, trying not to break down herself.

They'd never comforted each other after Lilly's murder. They hadn't been on speaking terms then – he'd broken up with Lilly and she'd broken up with Duncan, and they'd both picked their sides. Then Dad had accused Jake Kane, and that was it. She'd never once seen Logan cry. Now his tears were soaking the arm of her cardigan and his sobs were shaking her body and there was absolutely nothing she could do to help him. His mom was dead, his sister was a bitch and his dad…

Could they be true, the words Trina had flung at him? _Cigarette burns and broken noses?_ Veronica had never seen Logan with burns or broken bones. But maybe she just hadn't been looking hard enough.

Had Lilly known? Did Duncan? Veronica bit her lips, blinking back tears. Did it matter? She knew now, and she couldn't do a thing about it.

As soon as Logan's sobs trailed off, Veronica got him back on his feet and hustled him out of the lobby. They were getting weird looks from the hotel staff and guests, and she knew Logan would hate that more than anything.

He folded over again on their way to the parking lot. Veronica looked around helplessly before dragging him to a bench in the Regent's front garden.

She sat down and pulled him toward her, still half-expecting him to resist. But for once, Logan didn't have any fight left in him. He slumped into her, his forehead pressed against her collarbone, his arms tight around her waist.

Veronica wrapped her arms around him again, one hand cradling the back of his head. His hair was surprisingly soft under the gelled tips. She took a deep, steadying breath, and his familiar smell – chlorine and ocean and peppery cologne – triggering a deluge of memories of her old life, of sunbathing and boat trips and cookouts, of giggling over issues of _Sassy_ with Lilly and sneaking her first sips of champagne in the Echolls' pool house. She ran her hand up and down his back, blinking back tears as his body shuddered against hers.

After a while, Logan sniffled himself to silence. As his breathing steadied, the awkwardness of the situation returned full force, making Veronica's hands stall in his hair. She felt Logan's body tense and she loosened her arms, letting him untangle himself. He sat up, wiping his face on his sleeve and avoiding her eyes.

He gave a wet laugh.

"Guess you told me so."

"I really thought we'd find her," she whispered. And she had. All of her PI instincts had told her it was crazy, but she'd wanted to believe that Mrs. Echolls was alive. Must be her gooey, marshmallow center.

"Yeah, well." Logan gave her a tight, miserable smile. "Thanks for trying."

His face was wet and puffy and his eyes glittered with tears. After all the times he'd made her cry, she couldn't believe how much it hurt to see him like this.

"Let me give you a ride home," she offered, but Logan was already shaking his head.

"So I can be in the loving arms of my family?" He laughed, looking up so that fresh tears wouldn't roll down his cheeks. She knew that trick. "No thanks. Anyway, I've got a room here. I'll drive home in the morning."

"I don't think you should be alone tonight."

He smirked and she braced herself for some crack about her switching from PI to prostitute.

"Pretty sure suicide's not genetic," he joked instead, and that was so much worse.

She hesitated for a moment before putting her arms around him again. He didn't pull away, but he didn't hug her back either. After a couple seconds, she let go.

"Do you want me to call someone? Duncan?"

"No," he said quickly. "Let's just… let's pretend it never happened, okay?"

_Pretend _what_ never happened, exactly? Tonight? The whole case? Us being nice to each other? The fact that you promised to pay me?_

"Sure," she said.

She stood up. It didn't feel right, leaving him here, but what choice did she have?

"See you at school?" she tried.

Logan scrubbed at his eyes. She could tell he was about to start crying again, and it was obvious he wanted her gone.

"Can't wait," he muttered into his palms.

She gave a pointless little wave and headed for her car.

* * *

With Logan's case finished, Veronica threw herself into her two others: Meg's secret admirer and the Russian bride's missing Tom Cruz. It was almost enough to keep her worries about Logan at bay.

Unfortunately, driving around Neptune in search of Tom Cruz and his dog Steve didn't take much brainpower. More than once, she found herself toying with her phone, wondering if she should call Logan. Twice, she almost finished dialing his number before hanging up.

She couldn't stop herself from replaying the events of last night. Seeing Trina. Finding out that Mrs. Echolls really had killed herself. Logan's breakdown. Holding Logan. Feeling him cling to her. Trina's awful taunts about Mr. Echolls hurting him.

On the way home, she'd decided to go straight to her dad about what Trina had said. If even half of it was true, Mr. Echolls should be behind bars, and Veronica would gladly throw away the key.

As her drive wore on, she'd had time to reconsider. Logan hadn't actually confirmed what Trina had said. Veronica had no proof, and even if she did, she hadn't asked Logan's permission to tell anyone about it.

But now that Trina had got her thinking, Veronica couldn't help wondering why Logan really swam with his shirt on, or remembering how he used to excuse random injuries with tales of surfing wipeouts and drunken mishaps.

"My boyfriend is such a klutz," Lilly would say, rolling her eyes before kissing his scrapes and bruises. But that wasn't true, Veronica realized. Logan was reckless and violent, but he was never clumsy. Whether he was groping Lilly or beating the crap out of someone, he always seemed so sure of himself and his body. It was one of the things she used to find distressingly sexy about him, back when they were dating each other's best friends.

Had Mrs. Echolls known? Had she ever tried to stop it? And could her failure to protect her son be part of the reason she'd killed herself?

Veronica didn't have many memories of Logan's beautiful, movie star mother. She wasn't like Mrs. Kane, always hovering; when Logan had friends over, Mrs. Echolls would say hello and leave them alone. Veronica might have chatted to her briefly at a birthday party or a movie night, but her main impression of Lynn Echolls had been of someone elegant and sweet, like the good queen in a fairy tale. So much for the happy ending.

Inevitably, Logan's failed quest to find his mom made Veronica think about her own. At least she knew Mom hadn't killed herself, but did that make it any more likely that Veronica would ever see her again? It certainly didn't make her disappearance any easier to understand.

So when it turned out that Tom Cruz was in Witness Protection and his blushing Russian bride was a mafia princess sent to kill him, it hurt Veronica more than it should. Then she found out Duncan was crushing on Meg, and it damn near broke her heart.

Ah, the quintessential high school scene: girl with crimped hair and fake eyelashes crying in her car outside the big spring dance. And Wallace said she had no school spirit.

It wasn't like she was in love with Duncan. He might be her _brother_, a fact that still made her dry heave when she thought about it too much. But sometimes it really sucked to see other people move on while she was stuck on pause. Sure, she'd kept living since losing Lilly and Mom, but nights like this made her realize how much she was just going through the motions. While other girls got flowers from cute boys and gushed about the big dance, she was holding her breath, waiting to find Lilly's killer so Mom could come home and she could get back to her real life. But _this_ was her real life. And sometimes, it really sucked.

She was settling in for a serious crying jag when a tap on her window nearly made her heart land in her mouth.

_Duncan? Logan?_

Leo.

She popped open the car door and looked up at him: rolled-up blazer, bouquet and all. Her knight in shining armor. So why did the sight of him make her heart sink?

"What's wrong, Veronica?" he asked sweetly.

She gave one last sniffle and climbed out of her car. Leo didn't press for an answer.

"Are you ready for a total eclipse of the heart?"

He held her hand on the way to the gym.

"I want you to know I borrowed this outfit from Sacks," he told her. "I'm not that old."

"Who said the '80s didn't look good?" she joked, bumping her shoulder against his.

He gave her a shy grin. "No one who saw you, that's for sure."

She laughed. "A cop, a musician _and_ a smooth talker?"

His grin got wider. "I told you, I'm trying to tick all the fantasy boxes. How am I doing?"

Veronica smiled. "I'll let you know."

If Leo felt uncomfortable being in a high school gym filled with streamers and disco balls, he didn't show it. He'd put on the costume, he'd bought the flowers, and he'd asked her to dance. Maybe life on pause wasn't so bad, after all.

"Heads up – Risky Business at twelve o'clock," Leo said.

Veronica followed his gaze. Logan was near the stage, staggering around in socks, sunglasses and a dress shirt, screaming at everyone to Wang Chung tonight.

Well, at least he'd made it back to Neptune in one piece. And it looked like he'd been drinking ever since. She was kind of impressed that he'd managed to remember the '80s theme for tonight, although Tom Cruise's outfit from _Risky Business_ was probably less of a costume and more of an attempt to get suspended.

The music was still playing, but no one was dancing anymore. The crowd of students drew back from Logan like his humiliation might be contagious, leaving him standing alone in all his drunken, pants-less glory.

Veronica chanced a look at Duncan. He still had his arms around Meg, and was looking at Logan like he didn't even know him. Veronica was surprised to feel a hot burst of anger. _Some best friend._

Logan staggered out of the gym, clearing a path through people that refused to meet his eye. Leo sighed and headed after him.

"I cannot escape Tom Cruise," Veronica muttered before following Logan and Leo.

"Excuse me," Leo called as Logan shambled down the hallway, bouncing off lockers and students.

Veronica hesitated before putting a hand on Leo's arm. He stopped and looked down at her.

"I sort of know that guy," she confessed. "It's Logan Echolls."

Leo's eyes widened in recognition.

"He's been going through a pretty rough time… mind if I deal with this?"

Leo sighed, glancing at Logan where he'd ended up slumped against a wall of lockers.

"Look, I'm not actually on duty," he said. "If we can get him home without kicking up a fuss, I think I can let him off the hook."

Veronica closed her eyes and smiled.

"_Thank you_," she breathed. When she opened her eyes, Leo was grinning and Logan was trying to stand up.

"Logan!" She hurried over to help him before he hurt himself.

He looked up and grinned.

"Hey, it's Manila Whore Barbie!"

Veronica choked on a laugh. "That's right! And her date, Deputy Sheriff Leo, so watch your mouth."

"Man, this party is _lame_," Logan complained, finally making it to his feet. He pushed himself off the lockers and stumbled into Veronica, grabbing her hips for balance. She noticed Leo's eyes narrow and forced Logan back out to arms' length.

"Yep, it is!" she agreed. "So why don't you let me drive you home, and the nice deputy will forget all about this?"

Logan held up a finger, like he was thinking about it.

"Umm… No!"

He made a break for the dance and ran smack into a wall. Veronica sighed and followed him.

"C'mon, Logan, give me your keys." She tried to grab them but he turned away from her, hiding against the wall. "Leo, can you follow us in your car?"

"No," Logan giggled, spinning around and keeping the keys out of her reach. "No… No… No! Tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1999."

Veronica rolled her eyes at Leo. He smirked and shook his head.

_Remind me again why I miss being Logan's friend?_

"Wait, who's this dude?" Logan asked, acknowledging Leo for the first time.

Veronica sighed. "As I have told you now three times, this is the friendly officer of the law who is going to overlook your public, underage drunkenness."

Logan was giggling to himself again.

"Crockett or Tubbs?" he asked. Well, at least the "officer of the law" part had penetrated.

"Logan, when did you stop wearing pants?"

Veronica turned to see Trina standing in the middle of the hallway. She was still wearing Mrs. Echolls' coat. _Fantastic._ Veronica really hoped Logan and Trina had worked out some of their issues since the Sunset Regent, because a drunken rematch with his sister was exactly what Logan didn't need right now.

"What are you doing here?" Logan demanded. He staggered toward Trina and ended up nearly running into Leo.

"My first night back home and I get the call: 'come get Logan; he's wasted.'" Trina laughed. "It's like I never left." Her eyes lit up as the music changed. "Is that Kajagoogoo?"

"There's no point in you going in there, Trina," Logan slurred. "_Entertainment Tonight_ is not covering it."

Trina made a face. "Bummer. Well, I guess I'll just drag your sorry little self home."

She grabbed his sleeve and he jerked away. She reached for him again and he twisted out of her grasp. Veronica was about to offer to drive him home herself, but Logan was already following Trina toward the door.

"Long as you let me puke in your car," he grumbled.

"Of course, just like old times."

Logan looked over his shoulder. He was wearing sunglasses, so he could have been looking at anything. He could have had his eyes closed. But for some reason, Veronica felt her whole body tingling, knowing that he was staring straight at her.

"A promising young man," Leo remarked.

Veronica tore her eyes from Logan with a start.

"Thanks for showing up tonight." She smiled. "I assume I have Meg to thank for getting you here?"

Leo grinned.

"She called. But I came because I wanted to see you."

Smooth and adorable, as always. So why didn't it feel like enough?

"Wanna go back?" he asked after a moment.

Veronica stepped closer to him and peered toward the gym. Somewhere in that sweaty, glitter-encrusted room, Duncan was slow dancing with Meg.

"Uh, no. Here's not so bad."

She looked at Leo, feeling the heat of his body on her bare arms. His dark eyes dropped to her lips. She felt a tiny squirm of excitement in her stomach and grabbed at it.

"Are you gonna kiss me?" she teased.

"I was thinking about it."

Then he did.

The kiss was sweet and warm, like Leo. Not too pushy. _Nice_.

She leaned into it, trying focus on Leo's hands and Leo's lips, and not on whether Duncan _really_ liked Meg, or if she should have insisted on driving Logan home herself. She almost managed it.

They broke apart and Leo grinned at her. Her heart gave a little thrum and her cheeks flushed with warmth. Maybe this was enough.

"Cool," she said, and waited for Leo to kiss her again.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews are the best motivation there is. Please let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I'm sorry this took so long! I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you so much for your incredibly kind reviews. I can't say enough how much they mean to me, and how wonderful it is to know you guys are enjoying this story. Thank you for your support!

* * *

"So, you and Veronica _aren't_ together?" Trina asked.

Logan slouched lower, letting his head loll back and forth with the rhythm of the car.

Him and Veronica? Seriously? At this point, Trina was looking up at clueless. Like he'd ever go out with Veronica freaking Mars. Like she'd ever go out with him.

"Logan?" Trina needled.

"Who called you, anyway?" His lips moved sluggishly around the words, and he knew he was slurring. Not like he cared. He and Trina had both seen each other worse off.

"That would be your boyfriend, Duncan."

Through the happy booze cushion, Logan felt a dull pulse of anger. He and Veronica straight up hated each other, and yet she'd followed him out of the dance and offered to drive him home. And what did Duncan do? Duncan called Trina and stayed to party.

"Seriously, little bro – I thought you were just waiting for him to get out of the picture," Trina went on. "If Duncan and Veronica are splitsville, what are you waiting for?"

It was so ridiculous, he wondered if he'd passed out and was dreaming it. In what reality would he ever go out with _Veronica_? Hook up with – maybe. But only in a self-destructive, hate-sex way.

Okay, so maybe he'd thought about that. More than once. It was one fantasy he wasn't exactly proud of.

"Thanks for the relationship advice, sis," he muttered. "You're such an expert."

His eyes had drifted closed, but he could hear the eye-roll in her voice.

"Well, I always thought Veronica was better for you than _Lilly Kane_."

Suddenly, he felt wide-awake and stone sober.

"Don't you _ever_ say her name."

The words boomed inside the little BMW, and Logan realized he'd shouted them. He braced for her next jab, already reaching for his comeback. For once, Trina decided not to kick him while he was down.

He was too drunk to stay mad for long. By the time they got home, Trina had to unbuckle his seatbelt and haul him out of the car by his arms.

Dad was out. Maybe he really had felt a little guilty for Mom's suicide. It had taken a full day of Trina's ass kissing to revive the old man's spirits. But revived he was, and now he was off returning visits to all the Aaron fans who'd been tripping over themselves to comfort the grieving widower.

Logan had spent the day watching it all with a healthy dose of skepticism and a mild buzz. He hadn't exactly been subtle with his drinking, but Dad hadn't said a word. Logan wondered how long that was going to last. Maybe if Trina sucked up to him for a few more days, Dad would feel enough like his old self to knock Logan around a little bit.

Trina pulled Logan up the stairs to his room. He pushed past her at the door and collapsed onto his bed as it spun beneath him.

Trina reached down and took off his sunglasses. Logan closed his eyes.

He felt her sit on the edge of his mattress and start stroking his hair. If he kept his eyes closed, he could almost pretend it was Mom touching him. The thought made him want to break down and cry. Luckily, he was too drunk to do anything but focus on not throwing up.

He was just drifting off when Trina pinched his earlobe, hard, between her nails. Logan jerked away, flopping onto his back with an annoyed snarl. Trina laughed.

"Look, little brother," she said, like they were in the middle of a conversation. "I'm just saying that Veronica seems to take care of you. That's not always an easy thing to find."

Logan opened his eyes, but Trina was already gone.

* * *

He seriously considered skipping journalism on Monday. Since Saturday night, it felt like something toxic had crawled inside of him. He'd spent the last two nights trying to drink it to death, or at least numb himself to the point where he couldn't feel it anymore. It hadn't really worked. Now, with a churning stomach and a throbbing hangover, _The Navigator_ was pretty much the last thing he gave a shit about.

The truth was, he didn't want to face Veronica. He didn't want to see her pitying looks, he didn't want her to ask if he was okay, and he definitely didn't want her to confront him with what Trina had said about Dad. She hadn't been able to bring it up in front of her boyfriend Deputy Dog, but if they were trapped in a classroom together for fifty minutes, he was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to resist interrogating him.

So when he walked into class and Ms. Dent said, "Logan, you're late," he expected a little more than for Veronica to just glance up from her notebook and say, "Hey."

He gave her a quick half-smile and went to sit on the other side of the room.

He half-listened as Ms. Dent went over the deadlines for this week's issue. Veronica had her head bowed over her notebook, but he could tell from the way her pen was moving that she was doodling, not taking notes.

When Ms. Dent stopped talking, he thought about going to say something to her. But what the hell was he supposed to say? "Thanks for looking for my dead mom, I'll put your check in the mail"? It wasn't like they were friends.

"You okay?" Duncan asked as they left the room 45 minutes later. Veronica hadn't looked at him once.

"Yeah," Logan muttered. "Hey, thanks for calling Trina on me," he added, remembering he was supposed to be mad about that.

Duncan held up his hands. "Sorry, man – I thought it would be better than you getting suspended."

"Hey!" Meg Manning appeared next to them, sliding an arm around Duncan's waist.

"Hey, babe," Duncan said, and leaned down to kiss her.

Wait – Duncan and _Meg_? Since when? Logan looked around, but Veronica was nowhere in sight. Not that he cared.

"Hi, Meg," Logan said loudly. Duncan and Meg glanced at him. Duncan didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed.

"Hey, Logan," said Meg. "How's it going?"

"Just great," he retorted, beaming sarcastically. "Never better."

Duncan was giving him the stink-eye, and Logan couldn't have given less of a shit.

"Cool," Meg said, wilting a little under Logan's snarkiness. "See you at lunch?" she asked Duncan.

"You got it." He kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Logan looked away, smirking. Blonde, bland and prude – DK certainly had a type. Except for the bland part. Veronica was definitely not that.

"You got a problem?" Duncan snapped as soon as Meg walked off.

Logan shrugged, his smirk widening.

"No problem. Apparently I should just read _The Navigator_ if I want the news on my best friend."

Duncan managed to look guilty for about a second before scowling again.

"I asked you to be my wingman at Kaz's party," he reminded Logan. "You're the one who's been either too busy or too shitfaced to notice what's right in front of your face."

Logan gave a short, sharp laugh. "Yeah, you're right. I guess my mom _offing_ _herself_ has made me kind of selfish."

The bell rang. Logan and Duncan kept glaring as the crowds around them poured into classrooms.

Duncan broke first, walking down the hall without another word. God forbid President Kane be tardy.

Logan went to English, not even bothering with a witty retort when Mr. Daniels gave him shit for being late. Weevil nodded to him and Logan nodded back.

Fighting with Duncan and palling around with Weevil. When had this become his life?

He never used to fight with Duncan. They'd known each other since kindergarten, and been best friends since sixth grade. But Lilly's murder had changed everything.

Losing Lilly was like getting ripped out of his real life and thrown into a nightmare where everything looked the same, but nothing felt right. It was like he was trapped behind a glass wall, looking through it at the old, familiar world, where everyone else got to stay but him. The only thing that had pulled him out of his downward spiral was realizing that Duncan was doing even worse.

D didn't speak for three days – not until they were leaving the funeral. His first words? _"Where's Lilly?"_

Celeste had gone into hysterics. Mr. Kane had hustled his wife and son into their limo, shutting Logan out. But Logan hadn't left. He'd stuck by Duncan, hanging out with him almost every day, even when "hanging out" meant doing his homework while Duncan stared at the wall. He kept on trying to find their way back to normal, or at least as close to normal as things could ever be again. He dragged Duncan to every party, bullied or tricked him into getting shitfaced, and pushed him toward Shelly Pomroy until he finally got over Veronica enough to hook up with her. Logan told himself it was what Lilly would have wanted him to do. It was definitely what Lilly would have done herself.

It was a game he played a lot after the murder: _What Would Lilly Say?_ He'd gotten so good at it that sometimes, he imagined Lilly's reaction before he even thought of his own. He kept playing because it felt so good to hear her voice. He hated playing because sometimes, Lilly could be a real bitch.

_Ugh, _so_ predictable_, her voice had groaned in his head the first time he hooked up with Caitlin Ford. _Nice try, lover. You're never gonna get over me by screwing the human blow-up doll._

_Ooh, strippers and E in TJ. God, you are _such_ a cliché. _

He never played the game when Veronica was around. He knew Lilly would be just as pissed as he was about the Mars' attack on the Kanes. Hell – if Lilly were alive, she'd be leading the charge against Veronica. He _knew_ that. But for some reason, he could never get her voice to say it.

So he'd made Veronica's life hell, and he'd made Duncan's as easy as he could. And now – finally – Duncan seemed to be getting better. And he didn't give a shit that Logan was getting worse. The fragile walls Logan had managed to rebuild after Lilly's murder had been torn down by Mom's suicide. Once again, his life had turned to rubble, and Duncan was nowhere in sight.

* * *

Come lunchtime, the last thing he felt like doing was sitting at the 09er table, listening to Kaz brag about basketball and watching Duncan and Meg spoon-feed each other like everything was normal. Instead, he ordered a Cho's pizza delivered to his car and settled in, fishing a flask of vodka out of the glove compartment. It was warm, and he winced at the taste. The second and third swigs went down a little easier.

He was halfway through the flask and one slice into the pizza when he spotted Veronica in his rearview mirror. Before he had time to wonder what he was doing, he tapped his horn.

Veronica jumped and whirled toward the noise. He knew she couldn't actually see him through the tinted windows, but he could swear she was glaring straight at him.

For a second, he thought she was going to keep walking. Then she came around to the passenger side and climbed into his car without so much as an invitation. Logan grinned, then saw what she was wearing a laughed outright.

"What, did a twelve year old have a yard sale?"

Veronica crossed her arms and glared, which just made her fuzzy pink hoodie and pink plaid skirt look even stupider.

"It's called a disguise, smartass."

Logan offered her the pizza box, still grinning. She hesitated before taking a slice. For a moment, they sat in a silence that wasn't totally awkward.

"So, does that mean you're on a case?" he asked. He was just buzzed enough to feel chatty, and just sober enough not to risk letting her fill the silence with questions.

Veronica smirked around a bite of pizza. "A very lucrative one. Two excused PE absences and a locker in the east hall."

"Wait, the _school_ hired you?"

"Clemmons himself."

"To do what?"

Her brow furrowed. "Apparently, someone stole our mascot. But you didn't hear it from me."

"Polly?" He snorted. Who the hell would steal a parrot? And who the hell would hire a PI to track it down? "They hired you to find a _parrot_?"

Veronica shrugged. "What can I say? People love that bird."

They chewed in silence for a while. He'd dropped his flask under the seat before she got in, but she could probably tell he'd been drinking. She must have had plenty of practice with her mom. For once, he didn't feel like saying that out loud.

"So what are you doing out here?" Veronica finally asked, picking at her crust.

Logan tipped his head back against the seat so he didn't have to look at her.

"Oh, you know. Needed a break from the adoring masses."

"Ah, the plight of the popular," Veronica sighed with mock nostalgia. "I remember it well."

Logan smirked at her and she smiled back. This was… nice. He realized he didn't want her to leave.

So, of course, she did.

"I should get going," she said, popping the door open. He could tell from her face that this was awkward, but it didn't feel that way to him. Maybe he was drunker than he'd thought.

"People to interrogate?" he joked. "Balls to break?"

Veronica grinned. "Day in the life. Thanks for the pizza."

He raised a slice in an imaginary toast as she slid out of his car. She gave him one last, tiny smile before disappearing in a swish of pink plaid.

Logan slumped against his headrest with a sigh.

"Okay, Lilly," he muttered to himself. "What have you got to say?"

For once, Lilly's voice was completely silent.

* * *

By the time Logan got home from school, Dad and Trina were both out.

_At a Spanish lesson_, Dad's note said. _Consuela's got the night off. Hasta dinero!_

God, Dad's Spanish really was tragic. What was that even supposed to mean? "See you for dinner"?

Logan opened a bag of chips in defiance and sat down to contemplate the long, depressing night in front of him. He could go for a swim. He could play video games. He could watch TV. He could do all of that and more in his huge, empty house, all by himself. Poor little rich boy.

So when Duncan called, he wasn't really in a position to hold a grudge.

"Hey, man," DK said, like they hadn't even been fighting. "My folks are riding my ass. Can I come over?"

They grabbed a couple beers and some popcorn and headed to the pool house. Duncan jabbered about school and sports and it was so easy and normal that Logan felt some of the weight lift off his chest.

"Where's Meg?" Logan asked as they fired up the PlayStation.

"Babysitting." Duncan tossed a fistful of popcorn in his mouth and grimaced. "Sorry for not telling you about that. It just happened this weekend. I didn't want to make a big deal until I knew she was into it."

"No sweat," Logan said, fiddling with his controller. "I've been pretty out of it lately."

"Understandable."

The game started up, giving them an excuse not to look at each other.

"You should come out, you know," Duncan said. "Get out of the house. Kaz is hosting another rager after the Pan High game."

"I don't know – I'm kind of enjoying this whole 'drinking alone' thing."

"That's because you're a greedy bastard."

Logan laughed and it hurt a little less.

He tried hard the next day. He coasted through classes like normal and he ate lunch at their same old table. He laughed along with everyone else as Dick told them how he and Beav sent a load of goat meat to Pan High so they'd think Neptune had slaughtered their mascot.

It was the same thing he'd done after Lilly's murder: just keep going through the motions until it started to feel like living again. But back then, he'd had Veronica to hate and Duncan to take care of. Now the only person he had to blame was himself, and no one needed him.

So he kept going through the motions. He went to Kaz's party and got shitfaced with his friends. He went to classes – most of them – and made his usual half-assed attempt at studying for midterms. He surfed and drank and played video games. He made nice with Meg, who was just as prude as he'd expected, and twice as bland. She would've driven Lilly nuts.

Dad was out most nights, taking pottery, or tae kwon do, or whatever fad had caught his attention that week. Trina was out at parties and openings, screwing her way through the dregs of IMDb. Logan mostly had the house to himself, which was fine when his friends were there, but sucked ass the rest of the time.

Memories of Mom lurked in every corner, waiting to ambush him when he least expected it. He'd see a pair of her shoes that Trina had kicked off in the hall, or find an earring collecting dust behind the liquor cabinet, or catch a whiff of her perfume, and he'd wind up sobbing on the floor. One afternoon, he started putting on sunscreen and cried for half an hour because the smell reminded him of their trip to Italy last year.

He wondered if it made things easier for Veronica that her family had moved right before her mom skipped out. Somehow, that didn't seem like an okay thing to ask.

He kept an eye on her as the weeks went by. They didn't talk, but he watched her, and he kind of felt like she was watching him. He saw her at the Pan basketball game, huddled at the end of the bleachers, her arms wrapped around her stomach like she was fending off punches. He listened to the basketball guys rave about how she'd saved Polly and the game, and watched Duncan pretend not to care. He watched her eat lunch by herself when her friend Wallace hung out with the jocks. He watched her walk through the hallways in a daze, so plugged into her Walkman (who the hell owned a _Walkman_ anymore?) that she didn't even notice Dick pantomiming blowjobs behind her back.

Pretty soon, it had been a month since the Sunset Regent, and he still hadn't paid her. He kept meaning to put a check in the mail, but then he'd think he should do it in person, and somehow, he didn't do either.

_Just talk to her already_, Lilly's exasperated voice said in his head. _You know you want to._

He did want to. For some weird reason that he couldn't explain, he missed Veronica. Maybe it was because she was the only person who really got it about his mom. Maybe it was because she was the only one who'd tried to help find her. Maybe it was just that all his 09er friends suddenly bored the crap out of him.

Whatever the reason, he found himself sitting in his car outside Mars Investigations one day after school, wondering just how much he was going to regret this.

The door was open when he went up. He could hear voices coming from Mr. Mars's office, so he sat on the couch to wait.

That was when he saw Lilly.

A laptop was open in front of him, Lilly's face smiling at him from the screen. It was a picture of her and Veronica from homecoming, right before they got in the limo. He was pretty sure he'd taken it.

It was a long time since Lilly had blindsided him. Now the sudden memory of that night – the champagne, the ocean, the laughter – sent him reeling. So it took him a moment to notice the blocky yellow words above her head.

LILLY KANE MURDER INVESTIGATION.

_What?_

There were half a dozen folders lined up on the desktop. He felt the acid rise in his throat as he read each label: Jake Kane, Celeste Kane, Duncan Kane, Logan Echolls, Eli "Weevil" Navarro… What the hell _was_ this?!

He clicked on his own file. A document popped up with three tabs: Alibi, Evidence and Motive. He clicked through them, his stomach churning.

_Alibi: In Mexico. Witnesses: Dick & Cassidy Casablancas._

_Evidence: None._

_Motive: Sure. But I don't buy it._

Well, that was nice at least. Veronica didn't think he was a murderer. Should he be flattered? Or just relieved she didn't know that he'd driven back to Neptune the afternoon of the murder? Dick and Beaver were the only ones who knew that, and they'd sworn not to tell, but looking at these files, he wouldn't put anything past Veronica Mars.

He opened Duncan's file next.

_Alibi: __NONE. No memory of the day of the murder._

A woman left Mr. Mars's office and Logan hurried to click on "Evidence" in case Veronica was behind her.

_Falsified alibis for all 3 Kanes. _

_Kanes framed Koontz & paid him to confess – who are they protecting? _

_Cover-up of Duncan's Type 4 epilepsy. Violent fits?_

The edges of Logan's vision turned red.

_Bullshit_. No way was any of this true. Veronica and her father were either nut-jobs or backstabbing liars. He couldn't believe he'd let himself forget that.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Veronica leave her dad's office.

"What is it with the Mars family?" he demanded.

She slammed the laptop shut just as he got his fingers clear.

"God, Veronica – you really believe Lilly's murder was some sort of vast conspiracy?"

"I don't know what you saw…" she started. He could see her trying to spin it into something not awful and he cut her off.

"A file on Duncan." If she had any decency at all, she'd be ashamed about that. Duncan had loved her. Lilly had loved Duncan. The idea that Duncan could ever hurt Lilly was twisted and insane.

"There's a file on everyone," Veronica said. Like that made it okay.

"Yeah," Logan snorted. "It's thorough."

He stood, looking down so his eyes wouldn't give him away when he tested her.

"Glad my alibi held up."

"Out of the country, two eyewitnesses," she agreed immediately. "It's airtight."

So she bought it. Well, that was one small comfort. Now there was just the fact the Veronica had been collecting dirt on all the people who had loved Lilly. While everyone else was trying to put their lives back together, Veronica was trying to tear them back down.

"Hey, what do you think Lilly would make of you investigating all the people who loved her?"

"_I_ loved Lilly," Veronica insisted. She sighed and sank into her chair, looking even smaller than usual behind the big reception desk. "Maybe if I didn't, I'd be able to drop this."

He could get mad. He could call her a traitor and go back to slashing her tires and slut-sneezing when she walked past. But Veronica _had_ loved Lilly. He guessed he'd always known that, even when she did things that made him wonder if she'd been fooling them all along. Despite a laptop of evidence to the contrary, he couldn't believe that the girl who'd tried so hard to find his mom could be cruel.

The thought reminded him of the check in his pocket, a month overdue. He pulled it out and handed it to her.

"I just came to give you this," he muttered.

She stared at it like she'd never seen a check before. Or maybe she'd just never seen a number with that many zeros.

He pushed it at her and forced a smile. "Thanks. For…" _For believing me when no one else would? For putting up with my crazy bullshit? For not telling everyone that I lost my shit in a five star hotel?_

"For looking for my mother," he finished.

Finally, she took the check.

She stared at it for a moment before looking up at him with a soft, sad smile.

"Your mom was always nice to me," she said. Then she folded the check and tore it in half.

Somehow, Veronica always managed to surprise him. It wasn't like he needed the money, but she did. The corner of his mouth twitched up in spite of himself. Veronica's lips thinned in the slightest of smiles.

Without another word, Logan turned and left the office.

His mind was back on the laptop by the time he reached the street. He wished he'd had more time to look at it. It was like a festering wound – he knew looking would make him sick, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Logan got in his car and pointed it toward Cape Crescent. His head was always clearer by the ocean.

If there was that much dirt in Duncan's file, what was in Mr. Kane's? Could Veronica honestly believe that Jake murdered Lilly? Was she insane? Or did she really hate the Kanes that much?

That was one rumor that had floated around school last year: that Veronica had convinced her dad that Mr. Kane murdered Lilly to get back at Duncan for dumping her. Logan hadn't actually started that one, but it had been surprisingly persistent.

I_ loved Lilly_, Veronica had said. As much as he'd tried to convince himself otherwise, Logan knew that it was true. Veronica had always been there for Lilly, trying to keep her from going too far and then taking care of her when she inevitably did. In a lot of ways, Veronica had been the heart of their group – always there with a shoulder to lean on or a plan to get them out of trouble. For better or worse, the four of them had loved each other. That was what made everything that came after suck so hard.

Duncan and Lilly had been a part of Logan's life for so long that he couldn't even remember meeting them. They'd always just been there, as familiar and reliable as his limbs. Until one day, his Lilly-limb got cut off, and his Duncan-limb stopped working right and he was just some weird half-man, turning circles on one gimpy leg.

Veronica, on the other hand, he remembered meeting. He was twelve and they'd just moved to Neptune, as far from the adoring flashbulbs of Hollywood as Dad would let them go. The Kanes had offered to take Logan and Trina to Lilly's soccer practice while Mom and Dad oversaw the unpacking. Trina had yawned and flounced off to the pool, but Dad had already shoved Logan into a wall once that morning, and he'd jumped at the chance to escape.

Jake and Celeste had immediately been mobbed by the rest of the Neptune PTA, and Duncan had a scarily big group of friends that Logan hadn't really been up for meeting yet, so he'd wandered around the field, watching the girls run back and forth in their little green shorts and cleats.

At one point, a girl ran over to where he was standing on the sidelines. She was tiny and blonde, her face stuck somewhere between pretty and cute. She took a swig from her water bottle, watching him out of the corners of her eyes.

Because he was a jackass even then, he'd said, "Aren't you a little small for contact sports?"

She'd swallowed, a retort leaving her lips just a second behind the bottle.

"Do you like watching all girls sweat, or just the pre-pubescent ones?"

Logan had laughed in genuine surprise, and the girl's cherry-balm lips had twisted into a smirk.

"Pretty sure I'm the same age as you, pipsqueak."

She'd quirked an unconvinced eyebrow. "Whatever, perv."

In that moment, Logan had realized that he'd been wrong. This girl wasn't pretty, and she wasn't cute. She was _hot_.

He'd liked Veronica even before the four of them had become inseparable. And, despite his best efforts, he'd missed her after they'd fallen apart.

He parked in the crowded lot and walked along the beach, relishing the soft sound of sand crunching under his sneakers. He hung back from the water, avoiding the crowds until they thinned as the beach turned rocky. There was a little craggy area where he and Lilly used to hide out when it was late and their parents were making them miserable. They'd sit here and drink and fool around and sometimes talk about things that actually mattered. Lilly didn't open up often, but he'd loved it when she did. He loved feeling like she trusted him, wanted him – needed him. He could count the people who'd seen that side of Lilly on three fingers.

He tried to imagine Lilly's death from Veronica's point of view. If he didn't know that Abel Koontz had murdered Lilly, wouldn't he do everything he could to find out who had done it? Wouldn't he want to make them pay?

But Koontz _had_ murdered Lilly. Everyone knew it – the guy had confessed, for Christ's sake. Falsified alibis? Payoffs? It sounded ridiculous because it was. No matter what Veronica had convinced herself was true…

The third piece of so-called evidence in Veronica's Duncan file came back to him and his throat tightened, a cold shiver crawling up his spine.

It was early last year, a few days after his and Lilly's latest – and final – breakup. He'd gone over to the Kanes' place. His excuse was hanging out with Duncan, but he'd been hoping to see Lilly so he could apologize again, or maybe tell her what a bitch she was being. He'd gone to her room, but she wasn't there. He'd been eying the air vent, wondering if he was enough of a jealous loser to look inside. That was when Duncan started screaming.

Logan had sprinted toward the sound. He'd burst into the library to find Duncan and Mr. Kane struggling on the floor. Duncan's hands were around his father's throat. It looked so different from Logan's showdowns with his own father that he'd just stared at first, not understanding what he was seeing.

Then Logan had grabbed Duncan around the chest and tried to pull him away. He might have yelled something. He couldn't remember what.

Duncan had gone suddenly limp. When he looked up, the confusion in his eyes stopped Logan from asking questions. Duncan had looked just as shocked as Logan felt.

Logan had expected Mr. Kane to start yelling, but Jake had just held Duncan's face and stroked his hair, like Duncan was the one who'd been hurt.

"It's okay, son," he'd said.

Logan remembered that part. Remembered how Jake's voice had been hoarse from Duncan trying to strangle him. Remembered how he'd watched Mr. Kane hug his son, and felt queasy with envy.

The next day at school, Logan asked Duncan what was going on with him and his dad. Duncan frowned and asked what he was talking about.

Logan had let it drop. Still, seeing Duncan lose it like that had scared him. As pissed as he'd been at Veronica for breaking up him and Lilly, he'd considered telling her about it. If Duncan could attack Mr. Kane, he might attack anyone.

Then, out of nowhere, Duncan dumped Veronica. Logan had been dickishly pleased that Veronica was getting a taste of her own medicine, and relieved for the excuse not to betray his best friend's confidence. After Lilly's murder, he'd forgotten the whole thing. Until now.

Logan had met maybe four good fathers in his entire life. Mr. Kane was one of them. There was no way in hell he'd murdered Lilly. But someone was lying about something. And Veronica might be the only one who knew why.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review!


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